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An important business meeting, 

(See page 2G2.) 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 


BY 

MARION AMES TAGGART 

AUTHOR 'dl- 


ILLUSTRATED BT W. L. JACOBS 




NEW YORK 

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
1903 



THC LtUWARY OF 

CONGFiSS. 

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Copyright, 1903 

By D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 


Published September, 1903 


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• • 


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TO 

DEAR LITTLE 


LOIS STORM GOODELL. 








JUST A WORD 


Dear Little Readers: Dolly^s Dames ” 
really did dress up and play being grown up, 
like these four little girls in the story — and 
it was a Dolly who did it. And they formed a 
Christian Relieving Society all by them- 
selves, like these children. The running 
away from angry Mrs. Grunt is true too, and 
was most exciting. The little poem in The 
Sun and Moon are real verses, written by a 
real little girl of eight. And dear little 
white Billy ” and Pukka Boy ” are real 
cats, very much alive, who helped write the 
story, and so got into it themselves, with 
their own names; for if they had not sat 
purring on the paper, rubbing their faces 
against the writer, perhaps the story would 
never have been done — who knows? 


1 


CONTEJSTTS 


CHAPTER 

I. — Ted and Dolly are set free 

• 

• 

• 

• 

PAGE 

1 

II. — Seth 





17 

III. — Friends and foes 

• 

• 

• 

• 

34 

IV. — Dolly’s Dames 

• 

• 

• 

• 

51 

V. — Charity that began at home 

• 

• 

• 

• 

67 

VI. — But did not end there 

• 

• 

« 

• 

81 

VII. — A thief in the night . 

• 

• 

• 

• 

95 

VIII. — The Prince Pipsissewa 

• 

« 

• 

• 

112 

IX. — A SPLENDID PLAN . 

• 

• 

• 

• 

126 

X. — The SUBSCRIPTION list . 

• 

• 

• 

• 

142 

XI. — The Sun and Moon’s rising 

• 

• 

• 

• 

159 

XII. — Real glory .... 





174 

XIII. — The Sun and Moon’s setting 

• 

• 

• 

• 

191 

XIV. — Financial difficulties 

• 

• 

• 

• 

208 

XV. — What the mail brought . 

• 

• 

• 

• 

225 

XVI. — Another walk with Seth . 

• 

• 

• 

• 

240 

XVII. — Solving the difficulties . 

• 

• 

• 

• 

256 


IX 



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LIST OF ILLUSTRATIOIIS 


An important business meeting 


FACING 

PAGE 

Frontispiece 




The three went through the orchard to the house 
Again Ted whistled, and Rod came on 
The editorial office of The Sun and Moon . 


23 

108 

160 


XI 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 


CHAPTER I 

TED AND DOLLY ARE SET FREE 

^H^ll bet you couldn^t stand on your head 
on top of this gate-post,’^ said Ted, swinging 
his black-stockinged legs as nearly on each 
side of the broad stone gate-post on which 
he was seated as their length allowed them 
to come. 

“ Neither could you,^’ said Dolly prompt- 
ly, from the corresponding gate-post on 
which she was more decorously perched. 

YouVe often seen me stand on my 
head,^’ said Ted resentfully. 

Yes, on the floor, or on the grass,” re- 
torted Dolly, “ where there’s a place for 
your legs to fall when you tumble over. 
There isn’t any place on the post but 
1 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

’way down to the ground, and you wouldn’t 
dare.” 

Boys always dare,” said Ted. “ Girls 
are ’fraid. You’d just put your both hands 
on the top of the post, and your head down 
between ’em, and stick your legs up straight, 
and there you’d be.” 

No, you wouldn’t; you’d be there.’^ And 
Dolly pointed to the hard driveway five feet 
below them. You can’t stand on your head 
one minute ’thout you wobble, and in less’n 
another minute you go fiat. I guess you’d 
better not try it on a gate-post.” 

“Well, could you do it?” persisted Ted, 
getting away from the discussion of his own 
skill. 

“ No, sir, I could not,” said Dolly frankly. 
“ And if I could, I wouldn’t be such a silly.” 

“ It would be nice if we both could do it,” 
said Ted thoughtfully. “ One on each post, 
like the lions before big houses. You’d be 
on your head on one post, and I’d be on my 
head on the other, and folks driving by would 
stop to look, and be int’rested. We’d get 
2 


TED AND DOLLY ARE SET FREE 

right side up for breath when there wasn’t 
anybody coming. I should think Aunt Anna 
would be pleased to have her place have 
something different in front of it from the 
other places in Methley.” 

Mrs. Tarleton would not leave her hus- 
band alone to suffer the city heat during a 
long summer, while she enjoyed the country 
coolness and beauty. On the other hand, 
she said that it was out of the question to let 
her eight-year-old twins, Theodore and Doro- 
thea — Ted and Dolly, as they were always 
called — stay cooped up between brick walls 
when summer-time beckoned them away to 
the freedom of green fields. So in June Ted 
and Dolly were packed off to Methley, where 
Mrs. Tarleton’s elder sister, the twins’ dear 
Aunt Anna Shirley, lived, and were given 
into her charge with many warnings as to 
wet feet, and swimming, and getting lost, 
and strange dogs, and lonely walks, and 
above all, never to disobey Aunt Anna. And 
in the beginning of August Mrs. Tarleton 
came to Methley, and in the middle of that 
3 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

month Papa Tarleton came too, for his two 
weeks^ vacation, and in the first week of Sep- 
tember the four Tarletons went home to the 
city till another spring, when the same de- 
lightful program was repeated. 

Ted and Dolly said they had a mother 
and a half — mama was mama all the year 
round, but in summer Aunty Anna was 
mama too, and they loved her almost as well 
as their real mother — not as well, of course, 
because the best of aunts is an aunt, and 
mama is something quite different. 

Methley was a very nice place to visit. It 
was hilly, but not with such high hills that 
a person of eight could not run over them 
without being tired, or in danger. And it 
had a river, but not a wide, awful stream; 
rather a tame river, gentle and safe to play 
with, having lovely little curves and bends, 
and shady places where you could wade on 
hot days, feeling cool ripples flow over your 
bare feet and ankles, and scoop — or try to 
scoop — up nervous little “ minnies,” which 
made themselves into the letter 0 in their 
4 


TED AND DOLLY ARE SET FREE 

efforts to get away — and it was just as ex- 
citing that these efforts were usually unsuc- 
cessful. And you could not possibly get 
drowned in this friendly river — as Ted 
assured Dolly — except much below Aunt 
Annans — unless you dug a deep hole and lay 
down in it — and that wasn’t a very likely 
thing to happen, as the most timid grown 
person would have to admit. 

There were lovely woods in Methley — 
woods where you might walk with safety and 
be always likely to find the dearest shy fiow- 
ers. Woods which were never dull, because, 
being safe, you could play in them alone, and 
fill them with Indians and wild animals such 
as you never could get in really dangerous 
woods, where adventures might be honest, 
true ones, for in this sort of woods grown 
people had to be with you to watch you, and 
then you had no fun; neither real dangers, 
nor the ones you played at having when you 
were alone and free. 

There was a village of Methley — nice to 
drive to and with very interesting shops, be- 
2 5 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

cause they had so many different kinds of 
things in them, and somehow it looked 
queerer to see things mixed up that way in 
the tiny, dusty places than it did in the big 
department stores at home. There were 
children in Methley — down in the village 
part — but Ted and Dolly did not know them. 
They used to look at them solemnly when 
they drove through, and the village children 
stared back even more solemnly, because 
their eyes were shaded with flapping straw 
hats or sunbonnets, as the case required, 
but they did not meet, and the twins felt 
that they could not ask Aunt Anna why she 
did not invite them up to the house, because 
she never said anything about it herself, 
and it was her house. 

But Ted and Dolly were never lonely, for 
that is where the point of being twins comes 
in; there are two of you, and there is no 
chance to be lonely. At home they went to 
school, and they liked other children, and 
often had company to spend the afternoon, 
but they agreed perfectly in thinking that 
6 


TED AND DOLLY ARE SET FREE 
they had the best times when there wasn^t 
another child about except their two inti- 
mate little selves, as cozy as two little pea- 
nuts in their shell. 

The twins did not look much alike. Ted 
was brown-eyed and sturdy, boyish but not 
one bit rough, probably because he had had 
Dolly to tone him down. He was a brave 
little lad, and for that reason he was a very 
kind and tender-hearted one, because only a 
coward at heart is ever anything but gentle 
and merciful. Dolly was blue-eyed, with 
long dark lashes, and soft hair that was full 
of golden tints, though it was a light brown, 
and growing darker. She was a sweet little 
maiden, dainty in all her ways, and with a 
quiet, quaint little manner of her own that 
made big people call her old-fashioned. 

More devoted twins never looked admir- 
ingly at each other out of eyes of any color. 
Ted knew that other little girls might be 
nice, and pretty, and even good, but that his 
sister was all these things more perfectly 
than they could hope to be. 

7 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

And Dolly never doubted that other boys 
were strong, and clever, and true, but she 
knew there was just one boy who was all 
right in every way at once — and that was 
her twin. They shared everything, from 
their name turned about, but the same, to 
every book, and toy, and bit of candy — that 
wasnT being generous, Dolly said; that was 
because nothing was any good without Ted. 
And Ted had to fight a boy once — in the kin- 
dergarten it was and perfectly awful to 
think of — because he had laughed at him for 
wrapping up the caramel the boy gave him 
and putting it in his pocket to take home, 
so Dolly and he could eat it together, each 
taking a suck, turn and turn about, quite 
fairly. 

There was another reason for never be- 
ing at all lonely at Methley — there were ani- 
mals, animals, so many it took a person a 
week each year to get used over again to the 
joy of having so many, and getting ac- 
quainted with the new ones. 

Bevis, the horse — named after a horse in 
8 


TED AND DOLLY ARE SET FREE 
a poem called Marmion, which mama read to 
the twins because they liked the sound of 
it — of course he was there every year, and 
Ted and Dolly knew him like an old friend. 
Then there were the cows — beautiful Jer- 
seys, Clover and Sweet Briar, and Lady 
Belle, the soft-eyed Alderney — the twins had 
known these for two and three years. But 
there were nearly always new calves to be 
introduced to, and teach to eat out of their 
hands, and this year there were three, and 
Ted and Dolly were to name them. Besides, 
this year Bevis had another horse come to 
live with him in his model stable, and help 
him; a very young horse, with flashing eyes, 
and a silly way of starting at anything and 
nothing, because he was too young to have 
seen much of the world. His name was to be 
Roderick Dhu — Rod, for short — out of an- 
other of Sir Walter Scott’s poems, the Sir 
Walter who w^rote Marmion — and this was 
partly because he was as black as night, and 
Dhu means black in old Scotch. 

Of course there were chickens, and Ted 
9 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

and Dolly knew most of them by names of 
their own choosing, and could tell almost to a 
pin-feather differences in hens which looked 
exactly alike to grown-up people, who 
can not seem to see animals very clearly, 
somehow. Dear Trusty, the big dog, with 
his plume of a tail, and his swinging gait 
which kept the plume always waving, Ted 
and Dolly had known him ever since they 
were four years old, and Trusty had been but 
one. He was a friend worth knowing, and 
he wouldnT touch a cat, not for anything. 
Lady Mew, the striped gray cat that Aunt 
Anna thought so very much of, let him lick 
her kittens, and when a mother cat does 
that there is no doubt of the dog’s character, 
because she knows whom she can trust, and 
that there are not many dogs she can let 
come near her babies, much less touch them. 

Then there was Pukka Boy,” a Maltese 
cat, only two years old, and as beautiful as a 
cat can be, who got his queer name out of 
Rudyard Kipling’s stories, because pukka ” 
in the language of India, means several 
10 


TED AND DOLLY ARE SET FREE 

things that fitted this handsome beastie. 
And there was white Billy, just grown up out 
of kittenhood, as gentle and loving a little 
fellow as ever looked out on a friendly world 
with golden eyes. He was Dolly’s darling, 
for he had such sweet ways, and never a 
claw, and cooed so winningly in answer to 
you when you spoke to him, that he won his 
way into her heart, just as he purred and 
rubbed his way into her lap, and then up 
into her neck when he saw her. 

So nobody that had any taste — nobody of 
eight — could be lonely at Methley, and the 
best of it all was that these animals had al- 
ways been so lovingly treated, and never 
teased, nor frightened, that they were just 
as ready to make friends as the twins were 
to have them; Aunt Anna would not have a 
man on her place who was unkind to the 
dear, dumb friends who depended upon her. 

Maybe we might as well get down, if we 
can’t be figures on the gate-posts,” said Ted 
at last. 

“ Why can’t we be lions lying down? ” 
11 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

asked Dolly, sorry to have her brother unsat- 
isfied. 

Oh, well; what’s the use? ” said Ted. 

I thought it would be fun to stand on our 
heads, because it would be so different. But 
lions lying down — nobody would know what 
we were.” 

Let’s play these are towers, and we’re 
watching for the enemy,” said Dolly, with a 
happy thought. You be a knight, and I’ll 
be a lady’s chatelaine — isn’t that what mama 
said you called the lady of the castle in old 
times? ” 

No, not a lady’s chatelaine — that’s the 
chain mama hangs her salts and fan and 
things on,” said Ted. It was Lady Chate- 
laine — like Lady Washington, you know — 
that’s her name.” 

Oh! Well, I’ll be that, and we’ll watch, 
because the foe is coming to destroy our cas- 
tle,” said Dolly, scrambling to her feet on 
the top of the broad gate-post. 

Yes, and I’ll tell you: We have to stay 
here until we’re relieved, because there’s a 
12 


TED AND DOLLY ARE SET FREE 

wide sheet of water flowing around this cas- 
tle — they call it a moat, you know, though I 
do not see how it could get in anybody's eye, 
though it says in the Bible about seeing 
a mote in your brother’s eye,” said Ted. 

Well, anyhow, there’s a moat all around us 
here, and the drawbridge is cut off, so we’re 
prisoners on the towers. And you’ve got to 
stay, Dolly, till you’re relieved — that must 
be until aunty or some one comes to fetch us 
— no matter how tired you are.” 

All right,” chirped Dolly joyously. 
“Now we’ve begun; we’re there.” 

“ Do you see dust down the road, my 
lady? ” asked Ted, shading his eyes with his 
hand, and gazing afar as he leaned for- 
ward, one knee bent, and his left hand rest- 
ing upon it. 

“ Methinks I do,” said the lady. “ Dost 
you think ” 

“Gracious, Dolly!” cried Ted, dropping 
his assumed character for his real one under 
the strain of this slip on the part of the 
Lady Chatelaine. “Don’t say Dost you! 
13 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

Don’t you know it’s always thou in those 
times? ” 

^‘Yes. Now don’t stop again, please, 
Teddy. Dost thou think it is the soldiers? ” 
Meseems it may be. Yet it looks — 
looketh — like the butcher. No rescue yet, 
my lady! ” 

The Lady Chatelaine heaved a tremen- 
dous sigh. We shall starve if no help 
comes,” she groaned. This seemed hard, 
with the butcher coming down the road, but 
Ted did not see the funny side of this remark. 

“ My feet ache, and my legs are getting 
stiff; our tower is narrow, my lady. If we 
must spend the night in this fearful place I 
doubt that I shall see the morning,” he 
said. 

‘^The wagon has turned into the other 
road; it was not our soldiers,” said the lady. 
“ I see figures far down, though, and they are 
coming toward us. Dost thou think they 
are coming to save us? ” 

I hear a bell,” said the knight on the 
other tower. And the figures cross over a 
14 


TED AND DOLLY ARE SET FREE 
good deal. I think they are the cows be- 
longing to the next castle.” 

No fair for a minute,” said Dolly. 

Say, Ted, do you think this is much fun? 
Let^s get down.” 

“ Now, Dolly, we said we’d stay no mat- 
ter how tired we were,” said Ted reproach- 
fully. Here comes Trusty, wagging down 
the driveway. He’s looking for us. He’ll 
do for rescue. Now be the chatelaine a min- 
ute. My lady, my lady, here comes our faith- 
ful friend. Sir Trusty; we’re saved. What 
news. Sir Trusty? ” 

Ted bent down to ask the question, and 
the big dog, seeing him, bounded toward him, 
and stretched up to lick Ted’s face, barking 
the while excitedly. Then he bounced over 
to Dolly’s post and repeated the perform- 
ance. 

“ He says that he has brought up his sol- 
diers in the rear, and that we are safe. He 
says that the drawbridge is mended, and we 
may come down, my lady,” interpreted the 
knight. 


15 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 


“ Sir Trusty, we thank thee awfully,’^ said 
Dolly, sitting down on the post, and sliding 
to the ground without the loss of a: nrorctent. 

Ted swung his arms three times, prepar- 
ing to jump on the lawn, but thinking better 
of it, followed his sister’s example, and came 
down in the less glorious but safer way. 

Trusty barked and capered, and ran to 
fetch a stick, making believe that it was the 
first time that he had ever seen one, and that 
he had just discovered what a nice toy it 
would be, if only some boy or girl would 
throw it for him to run after. 

The three ran up the lawn to the house. 
Aunt Anna met them on the piazza. 

I sent Trusty to call you, Twinsies,” she 
said, kissing each fiushed little face. “ I 
thought you would be late to get polished up 
for tea — it is half past five. But you are just 
in time.” 


16 


CHAPTER I 


SETH 

Ted and Dolly were having apple pie and 
a small piece each of mild cheese down in the 
orchard under the apple-trees. Apple pie 
at the table was not very attractive to the 
twins, but apple pie out-of-doors was glori- 
ous. There not only did it catch a new, fine 
fiavor from the sunshine and June winds — 
and maybe — who could tell? — from the 
honey-laden bees fiying past it, but it be- 
came an exciti} g adventure to eat it, for it 
was so hard to hold it, and bite it, and not 
let one bit ooze out between the crusts and 
drop on a clean shirt-waist that it kept a 
person on the jump to manage it just as 
much as playing puss-puss-in-the-corner did. 

^‘You see that apple-tree down there?’’ 
17 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

said Dolly. No, not that one, but the next 
one to the next one to that — the one with 
the two sides to it and a kind of split place 
in the middle where it grows in two halves,’’ 
she added, as Ted nodded speechlessly, 
catching a bit of apple just as it was falling 
by a skilful twist of his pie, and a sudden 
dart of the tongue, like a humming-bird 
when he sees a shiny fly going by. Well, 
that apple-tree is bowing to us, and that 
split place is where it is smiling. It says it’s 
glad we like this pie, ’cause it grew the 
apples ’spressly for us, and this year it’s 
going to have them bigger and redder, ’cause 
last year it was just practising making 
apples.” 

Ted received this information unmoved; 
he was used to Dolly’s making believe,” 
and liked to do it as well as she did, but 
that moment he did not feel in the mood of 
helping it out — perhaps because cheese and 
apple pie are solid facts, not helpful to 
imagination. 

Dolly, seeing this, gave up this sort of 
18 


SETH 


play at once, and fell into Ted’s mood. She 
got through with her pie first — she was 
always quicker at everything than her other 
half — and removed the juice of the pie and 
the crumbs of soft cheese from her fingers 
just as Lady MeAv’s kittens would have got 
them off their paws — with her little red 
tongue, but so daintily that it looked quite 
as nice a way as using a fine damask napkin 
— besides, she had no napkin. 

“ There’s a man poking along at the end . 
of the orchard,” she said. He is as slow 
as anything, but he’s coming this way. Do 
you think we ought to stay? He couldn’t 
be dang’rous, could he? ” 

“ I’ve been seeing him for a long time,” 
said Ted, but I couldn’t tell you ’cause of 
the pie.” He, too, had put away the last bit, 
and was now free to talk. We can’t see 
him plain enough to tell how dang’rous he 
might be, but he’s too poky to do any harm. 

I guess he’s going up to the house. If he 
was a burglar he wouldn’t act like that.” 

Burglars creep along,” objected Dolly. 

19 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

Oh, well, jes, I know they do. But 
there are creeps and creeps. They don’t do 
like that — they crawl and crawl. ’Sides, 
they don’t burgle in the daytime, nor in 
orchards. Burglars burgle around back 
windows, and in the night, when they have 
to have dark lanterns. I think he’s a caller.” 
Ted spoke as positively as if he had been 
on the police force for years, and knew 
burglars’ ways of old, but though Dolly was 
struck by his wisdom in such matters, her 
sense of social propriety led her to protest. 

Aunt Anna wouldn’t have a caller coming 
up so funny through the orchard, Teddy,” 
she said in a shocked voice. Aunt Anna is 
a lady, and her callers act like ladies.” 

This is a man, Twin-Doll,” Ted said. 

Aunt Anna’s men callers don’t act like 
ladies.” 

Well, he’s coming nearer and nearer — I 
hope he’s safe,” whispered Dolly. Look, 
Teddy; he’s sort of grubbing along, ’s if he’d 
lost something! No; he’s picking things; 
he’s got a handful of leaves already.” 

20 


SETH 


The man had come near enough now to 
be in plain sight, and the twins felt no more 
anxiety. He was a slender man, not above 
medium height if he had stood straight, but 
his thin shoulders were bent as if from years 
of stooping, and this made him look small. 
His eyes were blue, and had a far-off look 
and a dreamy expression, as if what they 
saw was at one and the same time in another 
world, and within himself. His lips wore a 
sweet, uncertain smile, like that on the lips 
of a little baby, half waking, half sleeping. 
The children did not think of his age; if they 
had they would probably have said he was 
old, for he must have been about forty, but 
he was the sort of person who has no age, 
and when they knew him the twins under- 
stood that this was because the woodland 
fairies had touched him in the cradle, and 
made him their own. In his hands he held 
freshly gathered herbs, and he stroked them 
with his thin fingers in a way that reminded 
Dolly at once of her mother’s way of smooth- 
ing her hair before she tied the ribbon on it, 
3 21 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

and her eyes filled with tears, though she did 
not know why, for she was not at all un- 
happy. 

It w^as impossible to feel the least fear 
of such a man, and Ted and Dolly waited his 
coming as still as two rabbits, but with none 
of the rabbits’ desire to scuttle off. 

It was the man who was startled when 
he saw the children, but after a slight back- 
ward movement, he smiled at them, because 
he saw that they were children, and he never 
minded coming upon little folk, though he 
liked to keep away from grown-up people. 

Ted and Dolly smiled back at him, and he 
held out to them two beautiful flag blossoms 
— and the twins had looked in vain for 
the flower-de-luce along the river. Feeling 
that there was something out of the ordi- 
nary in a man who looked and smiled like 
this, so silently, and who could find the 
bright purplish blue blossoms where their 
keen eyes had failed, Ted and Dolly arose, 
and just as silently accepted the gift, look- 
ing up into the dreamy blue eyes which came 
22 





T pM.' sp;T 



The three went throngli the orchard to the house. 




SETH 


back from the far away to answer the chil- 
dren’s gaze with one of true comradeship 
and understanding. 

Suddenly Dolly slipped her hand into 
the one she and Ted had just emptied of the 
flowers, and she felt it tighten, cool and 
Arm, over her warm little palm. Then Ted 
put his hand into the man’s other arm — 
because that hand was full of herbs, and 
without a word of question or explanation, 
the three went up through the orchard to 
the house. 

Aunt Anna did not seem surprised to see 
the stranger, though Ted and Dolly half 
expected her to be startled, and would not 
have been greatly astonished if she had not 
been able to see him, for they both had an 
undeflned feeling that he had dropped from 
fairyland, and if he had had fern seed in his 
pocket — which gives any one the power to 
go about unseen — as well as meadow herbs 
in his hand, it would have seemed only what 
was to be expected of their companion. 

But Aunt Anna could see him; she came 
23 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

out, smiling and nodding, and waited under 
the grape arbor at the back of the house for 
them to come up. And Trusty saw him — 
but that was less strange — and came whin- 
ing and shaking down to them, and put his 
paws on the stranger’s shoulders and licked 
his ear, with an added wmrmth of touch over 
and above his usual kindliness. And a little 
farther along — Trusty now escorting the 
man, and making it very hard for Ted to 
walk, because he was determined to wag 
along close to his side — a little farther along 
Pukka Boy and Billy saw him, and trotted 
down to meet him, and Pukka Boy spread 
his fore-legs apart, and put his head down 
between them till he stood on the very top 
of it, which was his way of welcoming his 
friends, and Billy stretched up, and pulled 
and pulled the leg of his trousers, which was 
Billy’s way of showing joy at meeting. Nor 
was this all, for just before they reached 
Aunt Anna, Lady Mew came along, head 
well back, and a plump kitten looped up by 
the back of its neck between her teeth, and 
24 


SETH 


this she laid directly at the strange man’s 
feet, and rubbed herself joyfully against his 
boots, while he took it up and cuddled it in 
his neck. 

All your friends, Seth, remember you,” 
said Aunt Anna, coming forward and offer- 
ing her hand. “ Little folk in fur and 
feathers, and little folk in ginghams,” she 
added, with a glance at the entranced twins, 
all follow you and love you. And I think 
the plants must know you, because they 
show themselves to you, where no one else 
can find them.” 

Seth gave her a shy smile, and dropped 
his eyes. “ People are made for people, and 
then again people are made for plants and 
dumb things; I was always most kin to 
these,” he said, and his voice was low and 
had a curious sweetness in it that made 
musical Dolly thrill to it without knowing 
why she did so. 

Did you bring me anything to-day? ” 
asked Aunt Anna. 

Not to-day, no’m,” said Seth. I came 
25 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

to ask if I should make you up the same 
essences and extracts as last year. Vm. 
planning my season.’’ 

Yes, please, Seth, and a little more sage 
and marjoram — yes, and pennyroyal,” said 
Aunt Anna. And if you can spare more 
lavender, I’d like to have it. And thyme, 
and a larger bottle of anise essence, because 
that’s so useful in many ways.” 

The children listened to these fascinating 
words, entranced, and more than ever cer- 
tain of the stranger’s mystery. Marjoram, 
sage, lavender, thyme, anise — what these 
were they did not know, but they were beau- 
tiful words, the kind of words you would 
expect this man to deal in, and be names 
for things which he handled. 

I’ll bring them, m’am,” said Seth. 

Thank you.” He turned as if to go, but 
Aunt Anna said: Don’t go at once, 

Seth. Come and sit on the piazza, and 
Nellie will bring you a glass of cold birch 
beer.” 

“ I think I must go, m’am,” said Seth. 

26 


SETH 


I’m going through the westerly woods. I 
can’t stop, thank you kindly.’’ 

Oh, don’t go,” cried Ted impulsively. 
<< We’ve got the loveliest calves you ever saw 
in all your whole life. And we’ll show you 
Roderick Dhu — he’s black as anything, and 
just prances. He’s a dandy — please let me 
show them to you.” 

Don’t go,” added Dolly softly. Lady 
Mew’s got three kittens — she only brought 
you one. And they’re lovely. And we 
want you to stay.” 

Seth smiled down on the eager faces, his 
own lighting up with pleasure and with a 
gleam of fun. 

I can’t stop, dears,” he said. But I’ll 
tell you what I will do. If your aunty don’t 
mind. I’ll take you with me through the 
westerly woods. I’m sure she won’t mind, 
because she knows I’ll take the best care of 
you, and nothing ever happens to my chil- 
dren — I have more child friends than most 
people. Will you go? ” 

Ted and Dolly jumped up and down, 
27 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 


wringing their hands — or Dolly did — in 
agonized appeal to Aunt Anna, as if she 
were about to sentence them to death. 

But Aunt Anna had no idea of senten- 
cing them even to disappointment. She 
laughed outright at the two little figures 
bouncing up and down before her, and said: 
“ I’m only too glad for them to have such a 
pleasure, Seth, if you are quite sure you 
want them.’’ 

Dolly looked with searching anxiety into 
the blue eyes, but what she saw there made 
her clap her hands, while Ted, reading the 
kind face with equal eagerness, turned a 
somersault on the grass to express his sat- 
isfaction in the welcome he saw there, a 
welcome most unlike the patient affection 
with which growm people usually assent to 
a plan to give little people pleasure. 

Without a word beyond good-day to 
Aunt Anna, Seth turned away, Ted and Dolly 
clinging to each hand and Trusty swinging 
on ahead, as a matter of course, which was 
very nice, certainly, and yet did seem rather 
28 


SETH 


hard on Lady Mew, Pukka Boy, and Billy, 
who sat on the garden walk with their tails 
wrapped around them, and their yellow 
eyes fastened on the retreating group, 
and no mortal could say what they were 
thinking, nor how they felt at being left 
behind. 

How beautifully cool it was in the woods, 
coming into its aisles out of the sunny and 
dusty highway! Ted and Dolly discovered 
that Seth was more than likely to run into 
things, and in a short time they had begun 
to feel a care of him, and to steer him around 
objects that might be in his path. For in- 
stance, before they had discovered this 
weakness, he walked directly into a wheel- 
barrow, and only saved himself from fall- 
ing by a quick fling of his leg over the bar- 
row’s nearest handle, and as Ted said after- 
ward, goodness knows, a wheelbarrow is 
easy enough to see! 

But when they came into the woods Seth 
was quite different; here it was he who had 
eyes, and the children began to feel like ten- 
29 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

day-old kittens, with their eyes coming open 
for the first time. 

It was inside his head, Teddy, that he 
didn’t see; it wasn’t his eyes,” Dolly said, 
when they got home, and that was precisely 
what it was. 

Here in the woods not a tiny brown bird 
lighted on a branch, not a pair of bright, 
restless little eyes peered from a hole in a 
tree trunk, not a leaf seemed to raise itself 
out of the moist, mossy sod unseen of Seth. 
And, seeing them, he knew them by name, 
and told the children the stories of their tiny 
lives, told them with a grace of fancy, yet 
with a fidelity to truth that made every step 
of the way a joy. 

After a while they rested under a big oak 
which had been dropping its bronze leaves 
in the successive autumns just to make a car- 
pet for its three guests, and here Seth 
showed the twins new wonders. Hiding 
Ted and Dolly aAvay under the near-by 
shrubbery, he threw himself prone on his 
back and began a series of low, soft, wooing 
30 


SETH 


whistles and calls, gentle, coaxing, loving, 
and the children waited to see what would 
come of them, hardly daring to breathe. 

By and by a bird came, and hovered near 
him; then a ‘^chippie’’ fluttered up to him, 
and sat, turning its head from side to side, 
saying as plainly as it could: What a very 
nice creature this is, even though he is big! ” 

A robin lighted on a branch of the oak- 
tree, and uttered its sharp, decided note sev- 
eral times quickly, and peered down at Seth, 
with his saucy head cocked sidewise, as 
much as if to say: Well, you called me, and 
I had to come, but what am I to make of it 
all?’’ 

A squirrel could not restrain his curi- 
osity, and ran down the oak’s trunk, almost 
to Seth’s head, then darted up again, chat- 
tering with excitement, but not much afraid, 
for he perched on the lowest branch, and sat 
up straight to see the better. And by and 
by Seth dropped some crumbs for him, 
gently, hardly stretching out his hand, and 
before the squirrel knew what had come 
31 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 


over him, he was trusting the man, who was 
as quiet as he was restless, and eating up 
the lunch he had spread for him, within easy 
reach of a hand which, in some way, the 
little citizen of the woods knew would never 
be raised to harm him. 

“ Come, now,” called Seth at last, and Ted 
and Dolly crept forth, feeling as if they had 
had a glimpse of that lovely young world, 
just after creation, of which mama told 
them, before cruelty had taught our little 
kinsfolk to fear their elder brother — man. 

‘‘How did you?” asked Ted. 

“ ICs very easy; you learn their language 
in the woods,” said Seth, and more than that 
he could never tell them. 

Seth left the children very near Aunt 
Anna’s, coming all the way around to make 
sure they were safe. 

“ Shall we ever, ever see you again? ” 
pleaded Dolly. 

“ Often and often, dearie. ITl come for 
you when I’m going to gather herbs.” 

“ Aunty, Aunty Anna, we never had such 
32 


SETH 


a time! ’’ cried the twins, bursting into their 
aunt^s sewing room. He talks, just talks, 
truly, to the birds, and they come, and squir- 
rels, and he sees every leaf, and he knows 
more than anybody in all the world, and he^s 
good — oh, my, he^s awfully good! What is 
he? Just a common man? ’’ 

No, indeed; a most uncommon man, my 
pets. He is a poor man, but not a rough 
one; he has gentle blood, we are sure, though 
we don’t know anything of his family. He 
gathers and sells herbs, and makes essences 
for his customers, and so he gets the little 
money he needs for his simple life. No one 
but children and the animals know him well, 
but I think Seth is most beautiful — he is 
like a lovely poem, or a strain of sweet 
music. I am so glad he has taken you into 
his friendship.” 

<< We’re going again — he said so. We’re 
going to be friends, and we love him very 
much already,” said Ted. 

Very much!” exclaimed Dolly. ‘‘We 
love him almost to death, Ted, you mean.” 

33 


CHAPTER III 


FRIENDS AND FOES 

The house next to Aunt Anna’s had been 
closed ever since the twins could remember 
— certainly for as many as four summers. 
And now here was new^s that w^as most ex- 
citing! Not only was it opened, but Fritz — 
Aunt Anna’s man, w^ho knew far too much 
about horses to be mistaken in less impor- 
tant matters — Fritz said that the family ” 
had been traveling, and had come to Meth- 
ley to settle down in their own house again, 
bringing with them not only their boy and 
girl, aged nine and eight respectively, but 
two other little girls of their own children’s 
age, w'ho were cousins of the Rowleys. 
Rowley was this family’s name, and Ted and 
Dolly thought it rather a queer one. 

34 


FRIENDS AND FOES 

Ted and Dolly had not had the slightest 
desire for any companionship but their own, 
yet when they heard that on the other side 
of the hedge, and behind the green blinds 
of the big white house so near their quar- 
ters, were four children no older — or not 
more than a year older — than they w^ere, 
they w^ere on fire with impatience to hunt 
them up. 

Aunt Anna went at once to see her old 
neighbor, whom she had liked, and came 
home to report that Tony Rowley and his sis- 
ter Bess had grown into nice little people — 
they had been not much beyond babyhood 
when she had last seen them — and that the 
two little girl cousins — Howell was their 
name, Lillian and Ethel Howell — had pretty 
manners, and looked bright and lovable. 
Tonyas name. Aunt Anna explained, was a 
joke; his name was really Frederick, but 
when he was a tiny boy, and his nurse read 
him The Frog Who Would a- Wooing Go, 
Tony used to insist that the Heigho, 
Anthony Rowley,” meant him. So all the 
35 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

grown-up Rowleys began to call the baby 
Anthony, and then Tony, at first for fun, but 
after a while they almost forgot that Fred 
was his proper nickname, and he was Tony 
to the present day. 

All these things sounded so pleasant and 
attractive, that Ted and Dolly found wait- 
ing to see these interesting children almost 
beyond their strength, though Aunt Anna 
said that she would take them over to the 
Rowleys just as soon as she thought Mrs. 
Rowley was ready to let them come. They 
began to neglect their play, and the animals 
must have wondered what had happened to 
them, for instead of spending hours among 
them, Ted and Dolly forsook their dumb 
friends, and sat motionless behind the hedge, 
with their eyes glued to openings between 
the shrubs, watching for glimpses of bright 
colors and gray knickerbockers, for the 
hedge was too thick to let them see much 
more of their new little neighbors. 

One morning Ted and Dolly, kneeling on 
the grass, saw through the hedge the three 
36 


FRIENDS AND FOES 

little girls and one boy next door, disappear- 
ing down the slope behind the Rowley house, 
and knowing that this meant that they were 
starting off somewhere by the back road, 
Ted rose up and dusted his knees, saying 
briefly: ‘‘Come on; leCs do something.’’ 

“ Wait till I look — there’s a grasshopper, 
I guess, in my stocking top,” said Dolly, 
dropping over sideways and sitting down, 
and turning down the top of her stocking, 
from which she set free a young grasshopper 
who had not yet learned the difference be- 
tween black stockings and green grass. 

“ Now, come on,” said Dolly. “ What’ll 
we do? ” 

“ We might go walking,” said artful Ted, 
not without a hope of meeting the other 
children whom he had seen starting out. 

Dolly saw through the plan. “ We sha’n’t 
meet the Rowleys, ’tisn’t likely,” she said. 
“And if we did, what would be the use? 
You wouldn’t speak to ’em, and I never 
could, and they’d feel that way, too. So 
we’d only walk right past, and be stiff.” 

4 37 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

Well, I didn’t say anything about the 
Rowleys, did I?” said Ted, flushing. ''It 
would be nice to go for a walk. Aunty 
Anna said we might go down toward the 
falls alone, if we’d promise, solemn honest, 
not to go in ’thout some one was with us.” 

" I’d like that,” said Dolly. " We haven’t 
been that way yet this year. Come on, and 
tell aunty what we’re going to do.” 

The twins ran to the house; it was under- 
stood that when they left the grounds they 
must report themselves flrst, and tell some 
one which way they were going. Aunt 
Anna had no objection to the walk in the 
direction of the pretty falls, and Ted and 
Dolly ran down through the orchard, call- 
ing back to Aunt Anna as they started a 
fresh promise not to think of going into the 
glen where the falls were, and still less to 
venture, now or ever, near the slippery rocks 
which bordered them. And one reason why 
the twins had so much freedom was that 
they never broke a promise, and Aunt Anna 
knew that when they said they would do a 
38 


FRIENDS AND FOES 

thing, or would not do what she had for- 
bidden, they would keep their word though 
the sky fell. 

The road to the falls was the prettiest 
walk in Methley; it ran down hill all the way, 
and the only drawback to it was that if you 
went down when you started, it followed 
that you had to go up when you came back, 
and that was the tired and hungry end of the 
walk. But the twins’ strength was quite 
enough to let them take a higher hill than 
this with plenty of breath, and plenty of 
courage, so they skipped down the road 
hand in hand, hop, skip, and jump step, as 
gay as gnats. 

It was a very shady road; the trees 
reached to the middle of it from each side, 
and then overlapped. It was a pretty road; 
full of bends and turns, running on ahead 
of the children like a road that had the 
greatest mind to hide away from them, but 
didn’t, because it knew it would be mean to 
leave them suddenly with no road to walk 
on, yet was so sore tempted to do it that it 
39 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

kept trying curves and dips to see how it 
would feel to go quite out of sight. 

All down its length, and especially at 
these bends, Ted and Dolly kept sharp eyes 
out for glimpses of bright dresses or a boy’s 
straw hat, but nothing of the sort could they 
spy, though it seemed certain that the Kow- 
ley children must have come this way. 

They had such a long start of us,” said 
Dolly, in that provoking girl’s way of hers 
of knowing what a person was thinking, for 
Ted hated to have even her suppose he had 
taken so much trouble to meet the new 
children — it wms different peeping at them 
through the hedge to see what they were 
like. 

''Who?” he asked. 

" Why, them, of course,” said Dolly. 
" How did we happen to come off without 
asking Trusty? ” she added, stopping short. 
" We forgot Trusty, and he’d have waggled 
to come! ” 

" Just forgot him,” said Ted. " We can’t 
go back after him. We’ll take another 
40 


FRIENDS AND FOES 

walk just for him after dinner. Look at 
that big pig down there in that turn of the 
road.’’ 

Yes. Oh, my! Ted, just see! There are 
little pigs with her — four or several,” cried 
Dolly. Aren’t they white and sweet? I 
love pigs, don’t you? I think they’re not 
understood. I’m sure they don’t like to live 
in such horrid places as people put them in, 
so fearfully dirty! You see how they come 
to walk on this pretty road when they get a 
chance, and they’re as white! When I grow 
up I mean to see if I can’t help pigs.” 

Ted was used to Dolly’s pity and sympa- 
thy for all kinds of animals. Once, when 
she was only five, she spent weeks talking of 
nothing but tigers and panthers, and won- 
dering if they were not loving animals at 
heart, and if she went to live among them if 
she could not pet them. She never tried it 
— there wasn’t much chance to try it — but 
she still had the same longing to make 
things pleasant for the creatures most peo- 
ple did not like. 


41 


AT AUNT ANNA'S 

So Ted merely said in reply to Dolly’s 
eagerness: I wonder whose pigs they 

are? ” 

There’s a house ’way in there on that 
side,” said Dolly. Prob’ly they came out 
from there. I think those little pigs are 
perfectly dear! ” 

So it was with the kindest feelings to- 
ward big Madam Grunt and her babies that 
the children drew nearer her, but Her Pig- 
ship was not a mind reader. She raised her 
head and stopped grubbing, and looked at 
Ted and Dolly out of her little eyes with 
an expression that would have told them 
plainly, if they had stopped to see, that she 
thought them out of place on her quiet road, 
and not very nice children w^herever they 
were. 

Ted and Dolly did not stop to see; they 
came hopping, skipping, and jumping along, 
Dolly more and more delighted with the pink 
and white piglets, and Ted admiring them 
no less, though more silently. 

Suddenly Madam Grunt put her head 
42 


FRIENDS AND FOES 
down, uttered a cry of rage, and charged full 
at poor Ted and Dolly, just as they came 
close to her. 

Ted seized Dolly’s hand and began to 
run. There was no mistaking the fact that 
the big pig meant sternest business, and the 
children were dreadfully frightened. Ted 
thrust his cap in his pocket, and held fast 
to Dolly, who could not get over the ground 
as he did. But Dolly did her best, and they 
broke into a pace that was very fast for 
short legs. The worst of it was that the pig 
could run, too — and run she did, head down, 
tail out, until it looked straight in the wind, 
and the dust flew up under her cloven feet 
as they raced down the road. 

The little pigs scattered, and ran squeal- 
ing in all directions, taking fright from their 
mother’s excitement, but not understanding 
what she wanted them to do. And hearing 
her babies squeal, the old pig got more furi- 
ous, for she felt certain that all Ted and 
Dolly had come for was to steal them, and 
she wanted them to understand that there 
43 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

was no use in trying to fool her — nor fool 
with her. 

So the race kept up. Dolly began to 
stumble, losing strength and breath, and she 
wanted dreadfully to cry, but she wouldti’t 
cry if Ted didn’t, and Ted was only trying to 
cheer her on, holding her tight, like a true 
man, though he might have got away twice 
as fast without her. All down the wind- 
ing road they went, the pig chasing, the 
twins racing — and keeping ahead, but los- 
ing ground as Dolly began to give out. It 
looked pretty bad for them, when they heard 
a shout from the thick trees and shrubbery 
on the right, and four children burst out, 
sticks in hand, and drew up right across the 
way, howling like Indians. 

Even in their excitement the twins recog- 
nized their neighbors, but the pig did not rec- 
ognize them — perhaps it would not have mat- 
tered if she had. Four more children were 
rather too much for her, and these made 
noise enough for fourteen; besides, they 
waved their sticks, and stood right across 
44 


FRIENDS AND FOES 

her path in a way that made Madam Grunt 
stop to think. When she stopped to think, 
the children helped her decide by making 
even more noise than before and waving 
their sticks harder, so the big pig made up 
her mind that a mother’s place was at her 
children’s side, and, turning around, trotted 
quietly back up the road to get them to- 
gether, and tell them why pig children were 
nicer than human ones. 

Victory perched on the strangers’ ban- 
ners, but now that Madam Grunt was disap- 
pearing up the road, the children began to 
feel embarrassed on each side, and did not 
know what to do next. But you couldn’t 
stare silently at four neighbors who had just 
saved you from a rampant pig. Ted felt 
this, and broke the ice. 

We’re much obliged,” he said. 

You looked awful funny,” returned 
the other boy. Say, I didn’t know pigs 
would go for you.” 

They don’t get much chance in pens,” 
said Ted. 


45 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 


They ought to stay in pens/’ added one 
of the girls decidedly. The twins found out 
later she was Ethel Howell. 

Well, you know all animals fight for 
their babies,” said Dolly, panting, but feel- 
ing obliged to apologize for her late enemy, 
from whose attack she was still trembling 
on the verge of tears. That pig had little 
ones, so she drove us off. I suppose it 
wasn’t really her fault. But I was scared 
’most to death, and I couldn’t have kept up 
running. You live next door to our Aunt 
Anna.” 

Yes. And you’re the Tarleton twins — 
mama said she was going to ask you over 
to see us this very afternoon,” said Bessie 
Rowley. 

We were going to take Trusty to walk, 
because we forgot him this morning,” said 
Dolly. But we’d love to come.” 

We’ve a dog — a little one, all hair. 
He’s a Yorkshire terrier, and his name is 
Yorick. Papa named him,” said Tony Row- 
ley. 


46 


FRIENDS AND FOES 

Yorick! what? ’’ asked puzzled Ted. 

Oh, that’s just a Shakespeare word; 
Yorick’s a man in Shakespeare, only he isn’t 
in the play except his skull. I don’t know 
much about him myself. Papa said it was 
because Yorick in the play was full of fun, 
and so’s our dog,” explained Tony. 

Trusty’s lovely,” began Dolly, but 
Ethel Howell interrupted her. 

Were you going down to the falls? ” she 
asked. 

We don’t go to them without somebody 
grown up,” said Ted. We were just walk- 
ing.” 

Not when we saw you,” said Tony Row- 
ley, and they all laughed. 

Did you ever go to New York? ” Tony 
continued. 

Go there! Why, we don’t have to,” 
said Ted. “ We live there.” 

^^Oh! Well, so do we in winter. Let’s 
play we are the Twenty-second Regiment 
marching home from a big battle,” proposed 
Tony. 


47 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

They always want to play things like 
that — boys/’ said his sister. But I don’t 
care, do you? ” 

Dolly shook her head. Ted and I 
play all kinds of things,” she said. I like 
to play soldiers pretty well.” 

I don’t,” said Lily Howell, almost in a 
whisper. For a wonder her name suited 
her. She was a delicate, blonde little 
creature, and held her head on one side 
in a manner not unlike a lily on an August 
day. 

We’ll play girl things now we’ve found 
Dolly,” said Bess, giving Dolly a hug of wel- 
come. You’re name is Dolly, isn’t it? 
Mama said so.” 

Dorothea Anna Tarleton,” said Dolly, 
but I’m always just Dolly. Ted is Theo- 
dore Ainsworth Tarleton — we’ve got our 
two grandmothers’ names, and Theodore and 
Dorothea are just the same name turned 
around. That’s ’cause we’re twins.” 

Doesn’t it feel queer to be a twin? 
What’s it like?” asked Bess curiously. 

48 


FRIENDS AND FOES 

“ I don’t know; I was born one, so I can’t 
tell how it does feel. It’s nice — I know 
that,” said Dolly. 

Tony’s a year older than me — I’m eight 
— mama said you were eight, too,” said 
Bess. “ Ethel’s nine, and Lily’s ’most 
eight.” 

^‘What’s the difference?” interrupted 
Tony, with manly impatience of these things. 

Are we going to march, or not? ” 

Yes, of course. You be the general, 
’cause you saved us,” said Ted nobly. 

But Dolly suddenly protested. “ I won’t 
go past that pig again,” she said. Not if 
we have to go around three towns.” 

“ We’ll march down to the fork, and come 
around the other way,” said Ted. We’ll 
show you, Tony, if you don’t know the way 
yet. It’s farther, but I guess it’s easier, 
with wild pigs out. Fall in line! Forward 
— No, I forgot. You give the orders, 
Tony.” 

Tony willingly took command, and the 
regiment began to move. In spite of the 
49 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 


longer course, the children got home in time 
for dinner. And they knew the new chil- 
dren next door with a friendliness far away 
from the distant glimpses of them through 
the hedge with which the day had begun. 


50 


CHAPTER IV 
dolly’s dames 

It is curious how one thing leads to an- 
other when once you begin. For instance, 
before the twins knew their little neighbors 
they had some trouble in finding a good 
peephole in the hedge through which to 
watch them, but after they knew them 
they discovered, almost at once, a place 
where the shrubs had grown thin — so thin 
that it was easy to crawl through into 
the next place without going around to 
the gate. 

Dolly found Bess and Ethel and Lily a 
great addition to Methley, and Ted had good 
times with Tony, who, though he was not 
really more manly than Teddy, took pains 
to be very boyish, and showed Ted lots of 
51 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

harum-scarum tricks he would never have 
thought of for himself with only Dolly for 
his comrade. 

Ethel was a very daring young person, 
but it was Dolly who took the lead with the 
three new girls — that was why — that, and 
because it sounded well — that their society 
was called Dolly^s Dames.’^ For in less 
than a week the four little girls had formed 
a society, and Aunt Anna and Mrs. Rowley 
made their gowns. 

They had long skirts, gored, and with 
trains, and ruffled — real grown-up skirts — 
and grown-up waists, buttoned up in front, 
and trimmed, and high-collared, and their 
bonnets were models of style, and were worn 
on hair done up on the top of the head, with 
the front hair pulled up and out into a great 
looping pompadour, exactly like the fashion 
books, and every lady had a parasol, and a 
card-case. 

Bess was Mrs. Elizabeth Bashlaflue, 
Ethel was Mrs. Ethel Hortensia Fitzlippet — 
both names they made up themselves; Lily 
52 


DOLLY’S DAMES 

was Mrs. Lillian Gazelle — because the ga- 
zelle was her favorite subject just then — 
and Dolly was Mrs. Dorothea Avenel, for no 
particular reason, except that she thought it 
sounded pretty. 

“ Wedl have four houses,” said Mrs. Bash- 
laflue, “ on our lawn, and wedl live there 
except it rains — then wedl go up in the third 
story, for there^s lots of room up there, and 
nobody comes.” 

“Whatdl the boys be?” asked Mrs. 
Dorothea, whose heart yearned after her 
twin. 

We don’t need ’em,” said Mrs. Fitzlip- 
pet decidedly. It would be horrid for two 
of us to have husbands, and not the other 
two, and we don’t know enough boys for us 
all.” 

But neither Mrs. Avenel nor Mrs. Ga- 
zelle was so strong-minded. ^‘We might 
have them for callers and doctors,” sug- 
gested the latter. I like them to play.” 

When the boys were invited, however, 
there was the same difference in their view 
5 53 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

of joining the girls that there was in the 
girls^ opinion about having them. 

‘‘We could be soldiers away at the war 
most of the time, and we could be husbands 
for two of you — I could be Dolly’s husband, 
and Tony could be Bess’s — and Ethel and 
Lily could be widows, with their husbands 
killed in the same war,” said Ted. 

“ Well, we’ll play maybe, sometimes, if it 
rains or something, and we have any time, 
but we don’t expect to have much time,” 
said Tony. 

“ What are you going to do? ” demanded 
Ethel, who always loved to join Tony’s plays, 
if she did scorn asking him to play hers. 

“ We’ll show you when it’s done,” hinted 
Tony. “ We’re making something. We 
won’t tell you what.” 

“ Don’t, then,” said Ethel, knowing quite 
well there wms no use in teasing Tony. 
“Come on, girls; we’ll go get dressed, and 
begin.” 

She sailed away with her head in the air, 
and Bess followed cheerfully, but Dolly and 
54 


DOLLY’S DAMES 

Lily dragged along, looking over their shoul- 
ders at Tony and Ted crawling through the 
hedge. 

When the four returned they were beau- 
tiful to behold, and so charming as miniature 
women that Mrs. Kowley clapped her hands 
like a child, declaring that they should be 
photographed in their costumes the very 
first day she and Aunt Anna could take them 
to town, ten miles away. 

Dolly held up her gown of soft green, 
with silver facings, taking care to show her 
silk underskirt, made from an old one of 
Aunt Anna’s as a last touch of elegance. 
Her bonnet had loops of silver braid and 
green ribbon standing up straight on the left 
side, and her parasol was white — altogether 
Mrs. Avenel’s costume was the height of 
delicate style. 

Ethel wore red — it suited her dark hair 
and eyes. Her train was even longer than 
Dolly’s, but then there was no silk skirt 
under it; only a stiff starched white one, 
like the other girls’. Her hat was a great 
55 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 


picture hat of red, with black plumes; it 
flapped as she walked in a way that the 
others considered perfectly fascinating. 

Bess’s colors were yellow and white, 
beautiful, golden yellow, with white lace and 
white facings, and her bonnet was every 
bit flowers — nasturtiums of all shades of 
bronze and yellow — really a dream of a 
bonnet! 

Lily wore blue, soft blue, with lighter 
blue ribbons and touches here and there. 
Her hat shaded her face, and was made of 
blue velvet, darker than her dress, and for- 
get-me-nots, half veiled with white lace, 
adorned it. As the four stepped across the 
lawn, holding up their skirts with one hand, 
their parasols in the other, and swinging 
their little flgures in the pride of their 
beauty, the pretty colors mingling and set- 
ting off one another, they looked like ladies 
off a Watteau fan come to life — and not 
much bigger than they had been painted. 

John, the coachman, had rolled out the 
big close carriage for the girls’ especial bene- 
56 


DOLLY’S DAMES 

fit. One after another they entered it, set- 
tling themselves and their skirts with a 
great air, Mrs. Bashlafiue getting in last, and 
giving directions to the imaginary coachman 
before shutting the door with a bang. 

The ladies did not talk much during their 
drive; they were too occupied arranging 
trimmings, smoothing gloves, and looking to 
see that their cards were all right in their 
cases. 

Here we are!” cried Mrs. Avenel sud- 
denly, and started to open the door. 

My dear! Wait for John — I mean 
Peter — to open it,” cried Mrs. Bashlafiue in 
a shocked voice. John is driving, of 
course, but Peter’ll get right down and open 
the door. There, he’s done it!” she added, 
slyly turning the handle herself. We’ll 
get out here. Please go first, dear Mrs. 
Gazelle. John, drive up and down where 
we can call you; we sha’n’t be long.” These 
directions were addressed to the box upon 
which a stylish coachman was as plainly to 
be seen — by any one with an imagination — 
57 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

as the handsome, long-tailed horses drawing 
the carriage. 

The lady upon w^hom the four other ladies 
were calling was at home. Her visitors 
seated themselves elegantly upon her green 
sofa — it looked like grass, but of course it 
wasn’t, how could it be? — and conversed for 
three minutes — considered as fifteen — on 
her children and their own children, the 
trials of housekeeping, servants, and illness. 
Then the visitors departed with urgent invi- 
tations to their friend to return their call 
soon — Thursday, they said, was the day at 
home they had all taken. The only draw- 
back to the call wms that some one had to 
speak for the hostess, for Mrs. Tree — that 
was her name — had no more voice than she 
had body, but it was easy enough to manage 
that. All you had to do was to let one of the 
callers answer, and keep your eyes carefully 
away from her when you listened, and when 
you replied. 

Several calls were paid in this way, and 
then Mrs. Avenel gave a cry of rapture, and, 
58 


DOLLY’S DAMES 

forgetting her part for a moment, cried: 

Oh, here come the boys after all! ” 

It was true. Tony and Ted, wearying of 
the lack of the girls, whom Ted had wanted 
all along, crawled back again through the 
hedge, and slowly walked over toward the 
ladies, doubling up with laughter as they 
came, for they had not yet seen the new 
costumes together, and they struck them as 
funny rather than beautiful. 

Well, if you don’t look like the Lillipu- 
tians! ” cried Tony, slapping his leg in manly 
fashion, but immediately putting his fingers 
in his mouth because he had forgotten the 
rock he had in his pocket. 

They look nice,” said Ted, more po- 
litely, but it’s funny. Dolly, Aunt Anna 
says she thinks it’s time you came over and 
let her see you, all of you. And Seth’s come; 
we saw him when we crawled through, but 
there wasn’t time to go back. Hurry up! ” 
Yes, we came ’cause your Aunt Anna 
sent that message,” said Tony, shielding his 
dignity behind a part of the truth. 

59 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

But we were coming anyhow; we got 
tired making the — we got tired, so we 
thought we^d play with you a while,’’ said 
Ted, who had no pride that forbade him to 
want his sister, and to let her know it. 

We’ve got to go around by the gate,” 
said Dolly. We’d ruin our things if we 
crawled in ’em. Hurry up, girls; Seth’s 
come! He’s the dearest man you ever saw; 
gets herbs, and talks to birds, and doesn’t 
like anybody much but children, but he’s as 
dear — oh, you don’t know! Hurry!” 

We don’t want to see a strange man in 
our dresses,” said Ethel, not making her 
meaning very clear, but Dolly understood. 

Seth’s not a stranger; you don’t know 
him, but the minute you see him you will. 
And I’m ’most certain he’d like to see us,” 
said Dolly, leading the way to the gate with 
so much confidence that the rest followed 
with no further discussion. 

Hallo, Seth!” cried Ted, breaking into 
a run as he caught sight of the herb man 
sitting on the piazza. 

60 


DOLLY’S DAMES 

For the first time Dolly saw that grown- 
up dress had its drawbacks, for she could 
not run as Ted did with her train wrapping 
itself around her feet, though she was quite 
as impatient to greet Seth as her twin was. 

Seth’s face lighted up with a bright smile 
as he saw the pretty, funny little figures 
coming toward him, and he rose up to greet 
them, half bashful, but wholly glad. 

These are Tony and Bess Kowley, next 
door, and Ethel and Lily Gazelle — I mean 
Howell — their cousins,” said Dolly, who had 
got hold of Seth’s hand and was fondling 
it like a kitten. We’re playing society — 
— we’re a society ourselves — Dolly’s Dames; 
isn’t it a nice name? ” 

Did you ever see a more cunning little 
group, Seth? ” cried Aunt Anna, delightedly 
turning first one girl and then the other 
round and round. They are playing at 
being grown ladies, and it’s very much nicer 
than the real thing.” 

“ Most make-believes are,” said Seth 
quietly. I like best their own little mus- 
61 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 


lins. — I brought you something, Ted and 
Dolly.’’ He pointed to a small basket that 
sat on the bench, back against the house. 

What is it?” cried the twins, in duet, 
darting at the basket. 

No; don’t open it here. Come with me 
down into the orchard, and I’ll tell you what 
to do with it, and where I found it,” said 
Seth, rising. Even the children saw that he 
wanted to get off with them alone, so the 
fine ladies forgot their dignity, and taking 
up their skirts in both hands, followed Seth, 
who carried the basket. Trusty and Pukka 
Boy and Billy all added themselves to the 
procession. 

First of all,” said Seth, depositing the 
basket on his knees as he seated himself on 
the grass, and warding off Pukka Boy, who 
was inclined to investigate its contents, it 
always seemed to me that making wild 
creatures prisoners wasn’t quite the right 
way to love them. But I found this little 
thing without a mother, and he’d have died 
if I hadn’t taken him, so I took him. I 
62 


DOLLY’S DAMES 

haven’t time to bring him up myself, but I 
thought maybe you, twin boy and girl, had 
room for one more love in your hearts, and 
would bring up this orphan for me — I don’t 
mean for myself, because he is yours, of 
course, but instead of me. His name is Baby 
Bunting.” 

The children had not supposed that Seth 
could say so much at a stretch, but there 
was no time to wonder at this when there 
was the basket, unopened, and evidently 
holding something that was alive. 

Let us see, Seth — please let us see this 
minute!” cried Dolly, leaning heavily on 
Seth’s arm, while both boys laid their weight 
on his shoulders, and the three other little 
girls, forgetting that he was a stranger, 
hung on him at any point they could. 

Seth smiled into the flushed faces, and 
opened the basket, slowly and tantalizingly. 
There, cuddled down in white cotton, was a 
tiny, very tiny baby rabbit, as brown and 
dusty as a bit of lint, for which he might 
have been mistaken if it had not been for the 
63 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

big, frightened eyes and the long quivering 
ears. 

DonT take hold of him,’’ warned Seth. 

They are easily harmed. I wouldn’t take 
him out of the basket for a few days. Feed 
him in it, and don’t touch him except to 
stroke him. And keep him away from 
Pukka Boy; he thinks he’s a fur ball.” 

The children gently touched him with 
their finger tips, taking turns to do so, and 
hoping Baby Bunting would soon learn not 
to shrink from them — Seth said he would, 
and Seth knew. 

I’ll come and help 3^ou make a house for 
him when he’s big enough — somewhere safe 
from dogs,” said Seth, rising. I must go 
now, because I’ve much to do before dark. 
You can go on with your party.” And he 
smiled at Dolly’s Dames. 

We hadn’t a party; we were playing 
grown-up ladies. We’d like very much to 
have you stay and play with us,” said Lily, 
leaning hard on Seth’s knee and looking up 
at him pleadingly. She was a shy little girl, 
64 


DOLLY’S DAMES 

but she recognized Seth for one of her own 
people. 

Seth smiled back, well pleased. ‘‘ I am 
afraid I wouldn’t know how to play grown- 
up ladies,” he said. I’ll come again in a 
few days to look after Baby Bunting.” 

Ted and Dolly had been brooding over the 
tiny rabbit, cooing to him, and telling him 
how perfectly safe he was. They now thrust 
the basket into Tony’s hands for safe keep- 
ing, and each seized one of Seth’s arms. 

‘‘ We couldn’t possibly thank you,” said 
Ted. We had everything but a rabbit, and 
we needed one very much. We’ll take care 
of him our best. But we can’t thank you, 
’cause we don’t know how.” 

But Dolly had an inspiration. She raised 
her sweet face with a pucker of the lips that 
no one could fail to understand. Thank 
you,” she whispered. 

Seth understood, and flushed with pleas- 
ure. He stooped to kiss dear Dolly, and said 
as he did so: That’s good pay, little Sweet- 
ness.” 


65 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 


Seth went away through the orchard, 
and the boys and Dolly’s Dames returned to 
the house, Dolly bearing Baby Bunting in 
his basket. She was so sorry that her 
friends were rabbitless that on the way she 
arranged that Baby Bunting should be re- 
garded as a sort of ward of the new society, 
because he had made his appearance when 
Dolly’s Dames met in full dress for the first 
time. 


66 


CHAPTER V 


CHARITY THAT BEGAN AT HOME 

“ IVe thought of something/’ said Dolly 
very seriously. The children were up in 
Aunt Anna’s garret because it had rained 
all night, and had not yet cleared up; the 
grass was soaked with water, and the 
gray clouds were just beginning to break 
away. 

It was not the rain that made Dolly’s face 
so solemn — it was her conscience, for Dolly 
had times of taking life gravely, and this was 
one of those times. 

Something to do?” inquired Tony, 
swinging himself up and down over the foot- 
board of an old bedstead, until first his head 
and then his heels were presented to the 
company. 


67 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 


Something we ought to do,” returned 
Dolly. 

Ethel made a wry face. “ Sounds hor- 
rid,” she said shortly. 

Dolly looked at her reproachfully. It^s 
very nice,” she said. We’d like it, ’less 
we’re heathens.” 

“What is it?” asked Bess, not because 
she was afraid of being considered a heathen, 
but because she wanted to know. 

“ A lady called on Aunt Anna yesterday,” 
said Dolly, “ and they were talking about 
some kind of a club — a ladies’ club. They 
said they thought it ought to do some good 
— you know — charity things. So I thought 
about our society, and I think we ought to do 
that, too. I thought about it after I went to 
bed, and why couldn’t we be Dolly’s Dames; 
or. The Christian Relieving Society — two 
names, like a book, you know? We’d be 
grown-up ladies, just like when we play now, 
but we’d relieve the poor.” 

“There isn’t any one in Methley to re- 
lieve,” said Ted. 


68 


CHARITY THAT BEGAN AT HOME 

We could sew for them, and visit them, 
and do something to earn money for them,’’ 
continued Dolly, disregarding her brother’s 
practical comment. And the boys could 
belong — not to the Dame part of the society, 
but to the Christian relieving part.” 

‘‘ They could be wardens, or something,” 
said Ethel, whose father held that office in a 
city church. 

What’s that? ” asked Tony, who was of 
a different denomination. 

Oh, I don’t know just what, but they 
take care of money, I guess, and say what to 
do,” said Ethel. 

“ We could have a nenternainment,” said 
Lily, who found a few words in the English 
language still unmanageable. A nenter- 
nainment and sell tickets, and sing, and 
speak — dance, maybe — and do things like 
that.” 

‘‘Say, I’ll speak The Jumblies!” cried 
Tony. 

“ We might have the entertainment in 
the — you know, Tony! Let’s tell the girls. 
6 69 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

The — our — said Ted, breaking off, and be- 
ginning a wonderful series of gestures and 
twistings of his face as Tony failed to catch 
his meaning. Oh, my; what’s the matter 
with you? What we made! ” he cried, when 
this, too, failed. 

Oh, that! ” exclaimed Tony. Yes, we 
could. Well, tell them if you want to.” 

“ We’ve made a kind of a native hut up in 
a tree,” said Ted. It’s in a fork of a tree, 
and we built the floor right in the fork. You 
go up by steps — we built ’em — and it’s the 
dandiest thing you ’bout ever saw. We’re 
going to play we’re a tribe and be attacked 
by other tribes, and flght up in our hut. But 
we could have a flne show in it, with the 
people sitting down in front on the grass, 
and us acting up on our floor, like a plat- 
form. We were going to ask you over to see 
it to-day.” 

That sounds nice,” said Dolly cordially. 

But I guess we can’t settle the show now. 
We didn’t say whether we’d be a Christian 
relieving society yet.” 

70 


CHARITY THAT BEGAN AT HOME 

Let^s vote on it,” said Tony. All who 
want to get into a relieving society say 
aye.” 

“ Aye! ” chorused six voices with a hearti- 
ness that would have encouraged the poor, if 
there had been any in town. 

“ Then next — what’s next? ” asked Tony. 

“ Next,” cried Dolly in a burst of unex- 
pected knowledge, “ we must open the meet- 
ing. It’s a Christian relieving society, so I 
think we ought to do something kind of sol- 
emn. We’d better not say a prayer, I guess, 
but Ted knows a psalm. Say your psalm, 
Teddy.” 

Yours is better,” said Ted, embarrassed 
by the request. “ Mine is Out of the Depths, 
but yours is The Lord is my Shepherd, and 
it’s more fit for a relieving society, ’cause it 
says ^ I shall not want.’ ” 

‘‘ Don’t let’s have psalms,” began Tony, 
but before he cou^d get further, Ethel sprang 
to her feet, and settled the matter by say- 
ing: “ No, no psalms. I’ll say just this, and 
then you go on: 


71 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 


“ ‘ I thank the goodness and the grace 
That on my birth hath smiled, 

And made me in these latter days 
A happy Christian child.’ 

Now, that’s enough. That’s all we need. 
What comes next? ” 

Next,” said Ted, who had been think- 
ing, you vote for officers. We have to have 
a president, and treasurer, secretary — what 
other officers are there?” 

Captains and generals,” suggested Bess. 

Not army officers, Bess!” said Tony, 
annoyed by his sister’s mistake. 

Let’s have six officers, so we can each 
be one,” said Dolly. “ I don’t know just 
what officers do.” 

The president is the head, the secretary 
writes everything, the treasurer keeps the 
money,” said Ted, proud of his knowledge. 

Could we have any others? ” 

We could have a reliever, to hand the 
poor the relief,” said Ethel. 

And a beggar to ask people to buy tick- 
ets, or help us,” said Lily. 

72 


CHARITY THAT BEGAN AT HOME 

That^s five — we only need one more. 
Couldn^t it be some one to get up the enter- 
tainment? What could be her name?’’ 
asked Dolly. 

“ Manager,” said Tony promptly. I’d 
rather be that.” 

Dolly ought to be president, ’cause she 
got this up,” said Bess. Let’s say she is, 
and not vote.” 

All right,” said the others, Ethel with 
less heartiness, because she dearly loved to 
be the head of affairs. 

“ Who’ll be secretary? Tony said he 
wanted to be manager,” said Bess. 

They all looked at Ted, who was the lit- 
erary light of the society. He recognized 
the obligations his talents imposed. 

I will,” he said slowly; it was not the 
most desirable post. 

Bess would make the best reliever, and 
Lily the best beggar,” said Dolly. 

I’d be scared to beg,” said Lily, shrink- 
ing. 

We’d all beg, too,” said Dolly comfort- 
73 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

ingly. Only you’d be called the beggar; 
besides, you can coax lovely, Lily! Then, if 
Ethel Tvill be the other one — what is it? — 
the money keeper — treasurer — we’re all set- 
tled.” 

And I know what we must do first!” 
cried Tony, who had been waiting for this 
moment. There are poor in Methley, Ted 
Tarleton; but they don’t stay here always — 
they are too poor to live anywhere.” 

What are they? How can they help 
living somewhere? ” asked Bess. 

“They’re poor wanderers. We’ll go see 
them. They’re camping here now, but they 
won’t stay long — ” Tony’s explanation was 
cut short by Ted. 

“Gipsies!” he cried. “I knew they 
were here, but they’re not our kind of poor 
— I don’t believe they are poor, and we won’t 
go to see them.” 

“ We ought to be good to all kinds of 
poor,” said Tony. “ And if you don’t call it 
poor not to have any home but a wagon, and 
just wander everywhere, you just try it, 
74 


CHARITY THAT BEGAN AT HOME 

that’s all! We wouldn’t be much of a Chris- 
tian relieving society if we wouldn’t be good 
to a poor Gipsy! Besides, I want to go see 
them — they’ve got dandy horses! ” 

I don’t believe Aunt Anna would let us 
go,” said Dolly. 

You wouldn’t tell her till after you’d 
gone,” said Tony. She prob’ly wouldn’t 
let you go, but she wouldn’t care when you’d 
been — that’s the way people are. When I 
want to do something, I do it, and then mama 
doesn’t say a word, but she’d have said No 
all right if I’d been goose enough to ask her 
first. We’d better start right away when 
the rain stops — it’s ’most over.” 

Dolly looked shocked, and Ted said 
slowly: “You see, we couldn’t do that, be- 
cause we’ve promised never to go outside the 
grounds ’thout letting Aunt Anna know 
where we’re going.” 

Tony gave him a scornful glance. “ Those 
promises are just nonsense,” he said. “ No- 
body keeps ’em. It’s funny if you ain’t big 
’nough to go out alone! ” 

75 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

We do go alone, but we tell her where 
we’re going,” said Ted, flushing. 

At the same instant Dolly said, drawing 
herself up proudly: We keep our promises, 
Tony Rowley. Besides, Gipsies steal chil- 
dren; they’re not safe.” 

Oh, if you’re ’fraid! ” exclaimed Tony. 

« We’re no more ’fraid than you are,” re- 
torted Ted indignantly. 

Then what makes you such a muff? ” 
inquired Tony. 

Dolly read the signs of wavering in her 
twin’s face; she threw herself bodily upon 
him, and, not understanding the sense in 
which Tony used the word muff, cried pas- 
sionately: Don’t you go, don’t you go, Ted- 
dy! Don’t you break your word, not if he 
calls you a muff, and a boa, and a fur cape! ” 

Ted shook her off, annoyed by a public 
embrace, and Bess said: “ I don’t see why you 
can’t go, Dolly; it isn’t one bit of harm. 
Mama won’t care.” 

Nobody would care,” added Ethel. 

“Come on; it’s stopped raining,” cried 
76 


CHARITY THAT BEGAN AT HOME 

Tony, looking out of one of the little win- 
dows. ’Less you’re ’fraid! ” he added with 
great contempt. 

I tell you I’m no more ’fraid’n you are! ” 
cried Ted. “ But I think we ought to tell 
Aunt Anna.” 

I won’t go, not one step,” declared Dolly, 
sitting straight down on the floor to prove 
how flrmly she was rooted to the house and in 
her resolution. We can’t leave the grounds 
to go anywhere ’thout speaking first, and 
besides, I’m certain sure we wouldn’t be 
’lowed to go to Gipsies by ourselves. Ted, 
don’t listen to Tony.” 

“ No; mind your sister,” said Tony taunt- 
ingly. 

“ I didn’t think you’d be bad, Tony,” said 
Dolly, her voice shaking. 

“ Why, Dolly, you’re so silly,” said Bess 
kindly. It isn’t any harm to go — Tony 
isn’t bad.” 

It mayn’t be any harm for you, if your 
mother doesn’t care, but it’s harm for us, 
’cause Aunt Anna does care, and we’ve sol- 
77 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

emnly promised. I won’t go, but I’ll die if 
Ted does,” moaned Dolly. 

Ted wavered; he had never grieved his 
twin, and he always had kept his word like 
an honorable boy. Dolly would have won 
the day if Tony had not sneered, and Lily, 
whom Ted admired, had not giggled. He 
was not strong enough to be looked down 
upon, still less to be laughed at by a girl — 
a pretty, blonde little girl. 

I’ll go,” he said, and led the way out of 
the room quickly to get out of the sound of 
Dolly’s sorrowful cry, and the sight of her 
tearful, horrified face. 

The other children followed; only Bess 
lingered to beg Dolly to come, and to try to 
kiss her, but Dolly pushed her off, and Bess 
left her alone with her despair. 

She stopped crying to listen to the foot- 
steps receding down the stairs; she could 
not believe that Ted would not turn back 
from the gate. She could not see the front 
of the house from the garret window, so she 
ran down the stairs, and peered through the 
78 


CHARITY THAT BEGAN AT HOME 


parlor curtains. Ted did halt at the gate, 
and turn back to look at the house, but Tony 
pulled him by the sleeve, and Dolly’s cry of 
‘‘Teddy, Teddy, come back!” which Ted 
could not possibly hear, dropped into sob- 
bing as she saw her twin go on his forbidden 
way with the other children. 

Dolly cried miserably for ten minutes; 
then she dried her eyes, and sat up to wonder 
what she should do. To tell Aunt Anna that 
Ted had gone was out of the question. She 
would not tell tales; when Ted came back, 
as she knew him well enough to know, he 
would be very sorry, very, very sorry for hav- 
ing broken his word, and he would do his 
own confessing; it was not for his sister “ to 
tell of him.” Dolly felt quite clear of that. 
She must not go out of the grounds without 
first speaking to Aunt Anna, but she could 
not let Teddy go off with that cruel Tony, 
into the very mouths of the Gipsies, without 
her. Suppose something were to happen, 
and his sister were not there to help him? 
Yet if she asked Aunt Anna if she might fol- 
79 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

low Ted, that would be telling of Ted! What 
was she to do? Her poor little conscience 
was so mixed up that it was impossible for 
Dolly to decide what was right under the cir- 
cumstances, so, as she could not tell right 
from wrong, she blindly followed the bid- 
ding of her loving little heart — an aching 
little heart also, at this hour — and rose up 
to follow Ted into danger. For Dolly was 
dreadfully afraid of Gipsies, and firmly be- 
lieved that there was no limit to their prob- 
able crimes. 

Dolly got her hat, and carefully put on 
her rubbers, finding sad consolation in doing 
what Aunt Anna would have liked her to do, 
now that for the first time in her life she was 
going to do — albeit against her will — that 
which the dear second mother had forbidden. 

Feeling like a burglar, and several other 
kinds of wretches, Dolly crept out of the 
house and ran down the driveway at top 
speed, lawlessly, yet with an unwavering 
desire to do right, breaking the law which 
had been laid down for her. 

80 


CHAPTEK VI 


BUT DID NOT END THERE 

Dolly came up with the other children at 
a little distance down the road. 

“Did you ask Aunt Anna?” cried Ted, 
hailing her coming with relief. 

“ I couldn’t ask her ’thout telling on you,” 
said Dolly. “ I’m just coming ’cause you’re 
going, and I’m ’fraid of Gipsies — I don’t 
dare stay home.” 

Ted hastily changed the subject. “ Tony 
says maybe they’ll tell our fortunes, and 
they’ve got lots of dogs and horses. It’s 
silly to be ’fraid of ’em, Dolly,” he said. 

“ I’d rather have Trusty, and Bevis, and 
Roderick Dhu,” said Dolly, trudging along 
doggedly. 

“ We’re going ’cause we’re a relieving so- 
81 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

ciety,” said Bess, dimly feeling that since 
they were on their way there was reason in 
trying to make the way a pleasant one. 
“ We haven’t one thing to relieve ’em with; 
maybe we ought to have had the show first, 
and raised money.” 

You have to visit the poor when you’re 
that kind of a society,” said Ethel. If 
you find ’em worthy you take things after- 
ward.” 

How do you find ’em worthy? ” asked 
Dolly, with reviving interest; it sounded to 
her like getting in the plumber to test the 
pipes — her mother did that sometimes. 

“ You visit ’em,” said Ethel. I know, 
’cause my mother’s the hardest working lady 
in our church, and sometimes, when she’s 
sure there isn’t a disease in the house, she 
lets me go with her on her rounds to learn 
to be sorry for people. When you get there 
you sit down and ask ’em all about their 
affairs. You ask ’em how many children 
they’ve got, and if they wash ’em, and keep 
’em clean, and if they go to Sunday-school. 

82 


BUT DID NOT END THERE 

Then you ask ’em if their husband drinks, 
and how much he works, and if she works 
herself, and you ask her if any one else gives 
her things, and how much money they have 
every week, and if they spend it for silly 
things. You ask ’em all the things you can 
think of, and then if they answer right — the 
way you want ’em to — you give ’em soup tick- 
ets, and some coal, and tell ’em there’s an 
order for groceries, and you’ll be back in 
three weeks, ’cause half a ton of coal lasts 
three weeks. It’s awful easy.” 

Her companions were deeply impressed 
by Ethel’s wisdom, and that young lady felt 
quite set up by their respectful manner after 
her recital. 

How can you remember all that?” 
asked Bess. 

I’ve been a good many times, and I 
listen ’tentively; I like it,” said Ethel. 

“ It’s a little far to the Gipsies,” said 
Lily. I hope mama won’t take me to visit 
the poor; I’d hate it.” 

You won’t go when she wants you to 
83 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

now/’ said Ethel. She says she hopes you 
won’t always be shy.” 

I shall be — if you have to ask all those 
questions,” began Lily, but Tony interrupted 
her. You’d better not try ’em on the Gip- 
sies,” he said. You know beforehand they 
don’t do most of those things.” 

“ There’s the camp,” said Bess, pointing 
to a clearing in a small woods beside the 
road, not far ahead of them. 

Dolly shivered, and tried to take Ted’s 
hand, but he was in no mood to administer 
comfort, being in sore need himself of con- 
solation, so he pulled his hand away from 
Dolly, and she walked on, more dismal than 
ever, for Ted never had failed her. She 
began to feel something like hatred for the 
children who had not only led him wrong, 
but had made him different to his beloved 
twin sister. 

Even Tony and Ethel, who had put on a 
most courageous air on setting forth, went 
more slowly as they came upon the Gipsy 
camp. It was disappointing to find that the 
84 


BUT DID NOT END THERE 

camp consisted of but two wagons, and 
wholly lacked any air of adventure, not to 
mention beauty. A fire built in some rocks, 
and a kettle hung over it, was the one object 
that at all approached Ted’s expectations. 

Some blowsy women were sitting about, 
and many small children, lightly clad, were 
playing with dogs whose ancestors must 
have been of most breeds known to dog his- 
tory. There were a few men, stretched out 
on the ground and smoking, but most of the 
camp was feminine, and among the untidy- 
looking women there were a few who were 
young and pretty, and who had made some 
attempt to call people’s attention to the fact 
by putting a fiower in their hair, and glass 
jewels about their dress. 

The children saw one of these girls turn 
to her queerly mixed family and say some- 
thing, and then all the Gipsies turned their 
eyes upon their little visitors. 

The young woman came toward them. 
“So you want to see a Gipsy camp!” she 
said in perfectly good English. “ What 
'7 85 


AT AUNT ANNA'S 

pretty little people you are! Come right in, 
dears; Gipsies don’t bite — nor Gipsy dogs 
either! ” And she laughed, showing hand- 
some white teeth, set off by her dark skin and 
red lips. 

Want your fortunes told, pretty dar- 
lings? ” whined an old woman. We can 
tell you just what you’re going to do all your 
lives — and that’s a long time, a long time! 
I wish I had as long to live as you have.” 

There was something rather awful about 
these words, and none of the children liked 
the old crone’s looks. 

We just came to see ; we don’t want our 
fortunes told,” said Bess faintly. 

You’re not old enough to care about for- 
tunes,” smiled the young woman. Well, 
come in, just the same. Do you like babies? 
We’ve plenty here, and to spare. And do 
you want to buy baskets? ” 

Tony distinctly did not like babies, and 
there was something in this young person’s 
eyes that made him feel as though she were 
making game of him. He plucked up spirit 
86 


BUT DID NOT END THERE 

and said: ‘‘We didn^t bring any money. I 
made ^em come because I^d like to see the 
horses.^’ 

“ You can’t see the horses,” said a man 
suddenly from his couch of leaves. He 
spoke so fiercely that Tony started back in 
surprised terror, and the young woman said 
something to the man in a tongue the chil- 
dren had never before heard. 

He replied angrily, and she laughed, and 
shook her head. “ Too young,” she said in 
English, “ besides he wouldn’t say so if that 
was why he came. Why do you want to see 
the horses, nice boy? ” she said. “ Do you 
keep horses? ” 

“ Yes; I thought ’most everybody had to 
in Methley,” said Tony. 

“ We wanted to see the horses just be- 
cause we love them,” said Ted, feeling they 
were unjustly suspected of something, he 
had no idea of what. “ We have two. My 
aunt has the finest young horse in the place 
— he’s a beauty. I don’t believe yours are 
as nice.” 


87 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 


The Gipsies glanced at one another. 
<<yery likely not/’ said the man, who had 
been so savage. I’m sorry if I spoke cross. 
We haven’t very good horses this year. I 
like to meet a boy that knows a good horse; 
what’s your name? ” 

Ted Tarleton, but my father doesn’t 
own the horse. My father’s in New York. 
Aunt Anna Shirley owns the horse — we’re 
staying there,” said Ted. 

Dolly, who had nerves like a cat’s to feel 
the atmosphere around her, pulled her 
brother’s sleeve. Don’t talk to him, Ted,” 
she whispered. Don’t tell him about Kod; 
I don’t like him.” 

Too bad we’re leaving Methley to-day,” 
said the man Gipsy. I’d like to see that 
fine horse; I like a good horse as well as you 
do. But we’ll move on this afternoon.” 

I guess we’d better go,” said Bess. 

If they’re going away we couldn’t bring 
’em money anyway — we wouldn’t have a 
chance.” 

She spoke low, but the young Gipsy 
88 


BUT DID NOT END THERE 

caught her words. “ Were you going to 
bring us money? ’’ she asked, and her eyes 
fairly danced. 

We are a Christian relieving society — 
just we six,” said Ethel with dignity. 

There aren’t any poor in Methley to help, 
so we came to see you, because my cousin 
said you were just poor wanderers, and then 
we were going to have an entertainment, 
and give you the money we made. Of 
course, if you’re going away, we can’t.” 

^^W'ell, we’re much obliged,” said the girl, 
and laughed with all her might, throwing 
back her head to do so. All the other Gip- 
sies joined in a chorus of laughter, to the 
children’s indignation; they did not consider 
this a proper manner of receiving the an- 
nouncement of an intended charity. 

Something gave a slight, but distinct, 
twitch to Lily’s hair. She put up her hand 
and w’heeled around; there was no one 
nearer her than a big boy of, perhaps, six- 
teen, who was lounging into the camp, hav- 
ing come up the road behind the children, 
89 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

and unseen of them. Lily felt for the clasp 
of a pretty gold chain which she wore, think- 
ing that might have pulled her hair. To her 
horror there was no chain there. 

My chain, my chain — it^s gone. He 
took it!’’ cried Lily, forgetting her fear in 
the shock of her loss, and pointing to the 
big boy who had just passed her. 

What’s that you say? ” demanded the 
boy, turning sullenly around. 

‘‘Is your chain gone, Lil?” demanded 
Tony. 

Lily nodded hard. “ I felt my hair 
pulled, and the chain was gone. That boy 
stole it,” cried Lily, beginning to sob. 

“ Look here — be careful what you say,” 
growled the boy threateningly, taking a step 
toward the frightened children. 

“Give it back, give it back!” screamed 
Lily. 

“Do you dare call us thieves?” cried 
the cross man, rising up to what seemed 
a tremendous height, and frowning fear- 
fully. “Get out of here; get out this 
90 


BUT DID NOT END THERE 

minute, or I’ll have you all boiled in that 
kettle.” 

Lily sprang away, shrieking to the others 
to come and never mind her chain, but the 
boys stood their ground. 

Get this girl’s chain for her,” said Ted, 
so bravely, doubling his small fists and fa- 
cing the man, that Dolly thrilled with min- 
gled fear for him and pride in him. 

One word more — just one!” exclaimed 
the man, and snatched up a knife as if he 
meant to have Ted’s head. 

Come, come!” screamed Dolly, pulling 
her twin’s coat wildly. Courage was all very 
well, but common sense was better now. 
The Gipsy women shook their fists at the 
panic-stricken children, and the black- 
bearded man brandished his knife. 

Ted turned and so did Tony, and in turn- 
ing, lost every atom of courage. 

Tony seized Bess, Ted grasped Dolly 
tight, Ethel caught Lily, and the three pairs 
of would-be relievers of the poor ran for 
their lives, not daring to stop, nor so much 
91 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

as to look around, fancying they heard the 
whole Gipsy camp pursuing them. 

On and on they ran, poor Dolly’s breath- 
ing to be heard for some distance, and Lily’s 
getting so faint that it threatened to cease 
altogether. Ted slackened his pace, and 
ventured to look over his shoulder. 

They — they — ain’t — coming,” he 
panted, and the fugitives paused for breath. 

Dolly and Lily sat down beside the road 
deliberately to cry; Bess’s tears were falling, 
and Ethel w^as swallowing hard. 

To think,” moaned Dolly, that this 
happened! Yet it served us right! ” 

It served me right, you mean,” said Ted, 
whose conscience, pricking him from the 
first, had become torture to him since the}" 
had all fared so badly at the camp. 

It isn’t the girls’ fault — not one of you 
— and Dolly was good, best of all, from the 
very start. It’s Tony and I who did it! 
Did you have your chain when you got there, 
Lily? Do you, honest, think they stole it? ” 
“ I know they did,” sobbed Lily. I 
92 


BUT DID NOT END THERE 

pulled it straight just when I got there. I 
felt that horrid boy twitch me, only I didn’t 
know it was a boy twitching — I thought it 
was my poor, poor chain pulling my hair 
itself — in the catch, you know. And now 
it’s gone, and I loved it dreadfully! ” 

Lily moaned aloud, and Tony said grimly: 

I’ll get my father to go back there and lick 
that Gipsy. Big, black thing! He scared 
us ’cause he knew that boy had the chain, 
and he wanted to get us out. He’ll see! ” 
We’ll never listen to you again, Tony 
Rowley,” said Bess, turning on her brother. 

Ted wouldn’t have gone if you hadn’t dared 
him, and Dolly was just as sweet! I’m going 
to do everything you tell me after this, Dolly 
dear; you see if I don’t.” 

Dolly sighed, and arose, wiping her eyes. 

We’d better be getting home,” she said. 

You can’t tell what those Gipsies might 
do.” In her heavy little heart she found no 
great pleasure in being an example; the one 
thing she longed for was to get Ted all to 
herself again, without one outsider to share 
93 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 


their plays and poison their joys, though she 
did like Bess very much, and liked the other 
girls too. But when she and Ted played 
alone there were never any thefts, any 
frightful Gipsies, and no disobedience of 
Aunt Anna. 

The Eowleys and Howells parted with 
the twins silently at their own gate. Ted 
and Dolly walked slowly up the driveway 
with hardly a word for Trusty when he came 
to meet them. Aunt Anna had to be told, 
and how sorry she would be! 


94 


CHAPTER VII 


A THIEF IN THE NIGHT 

Dolly, watching Aunt Anna at lunch- 
eon, wondered if she could suspect that the 
twins had something on their minds. She 
was so quick to see the slightest sign of 
trouble or sickness in them, and now they 
were eating very little, and not talking at 
all, and Dolly thought Ted looked miserable 
enough for the dining-room clock to have 
noticed it, while she felt sure her own face 
was no brighter than his. 

But Aunt Anna, if she saw, did not be- 
tray the fact; she chatted pleasantly on all 
sorts of subjects which would have been 
interesting under more cheerful circum- 
stances, and did not notice the children's 
faint replies. She did not even see that 
95 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

Dolly left her best beloved chocolate pud- 
ding half eaten, and that tears were on her 
cheeks when she went out of the dining- 
room. 

Ted and Dolly went out together into the 
garden, gathering up Pukka Boy, Billy, and 
Baby Bunting in his basket, to keep them 
company — Trusty came without an invita- 
tion — and sat in the rose arbor in melan- 
choly silence, each scratching the cheek of a 
cat purring on his knee. They must tell 
Aunt Anna, before they had dinner, of what 
had happened, that was certain, for another 
meal eaten with the load of guilt weighing 
them down as it had at luncheon, was out of 
the question, but it took courage to walk up 
to their loving second mother and make the 
hurt, disappointed look come into her eyes 
which they knew would come when she 
learned that the children whom she trusted 
had broken their word. They did not know 
how to tell her either. 

Tony made you go,’’ said Dolly, still re- 
senting the fact. 


96 


A THIEF IN THE NIGHT 

Yes, but I didnT have to,’’ said Ted, just 
to himself and Tony, hard though justice 
made it for him. Tony said his mother 
wouldn’t care, so it wasn’t the same as it was 
for me. And anyhow, you ought to stand 
your ground, no matter what any one says. 
I’m not going to be mean, as well as break 
my word, Dolly, and try to put it off on Tony 
now.” 

“ Well,” sighed Dolly reluctantly, I 
know that’s right, Ted, but I don’t like Tony 
any more, and I never shall. How shall we 
tell Aunt Anna? ” 

“ The only way to tell her is just to tell 
her,” said Ted, rising to his feet so sudden- 
ly that Pukka Boy, whom he was holding, 
was seriously disturbed. Come on, Dolly; 
what’s the use of thinking and thinking? 
We’ve got to go, and the quicker it’s over 
the quicker we’ll feel decent.” 

Dolly got up very slowly, setting sleepy 
Billy dowm carefully on the arbor seat, and 
brushing a cloud of his white hairs from her 
blue gingham dress. 


97 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

Come, then,’^ she said briefly, turning so 
pale that Ted was startled. 

You neednT feel so bad, dear; you were 
nothing but good,’’ said Ted, squeezing her 
hand. 

I went after all, but if I hadn’t I’d just 
as soon ’twas me as you,” said Dolly, true 
to her twin, if not to her English. 

Ted felt Dolly’s devotion deeply; it 
brought him even lower in the dust than he 
had been before, and it was a very crushed 
Teddy upon whom Aunt Anna looked as he 
halted a moment in her sitting-room door, 
and then walked straight up to her, still 
holding Dolly’s hand. 

“ Something happened, Teddy? ” Aunt 
Anna asked, laying down her sewing, and 
putting out her hands. 

But Ted would not let her pet him till he 
knew that she understood that he had 
broken his word to her. We wanted — I 
mean we’ve got to tell you ’bout this morn- 
ing, Aunt Anna,” he began huskily. We 
made ourselves into a Christian relieving so- 
98 


A THIEF IN THE NIGHT 

cietj, the rest, and Dolly and me, and then 
we couldn^t think of any poor to help. And 
then Tony said there were the Gipsies over 
there, nothing but poor wanderers, and we 
might help them, and we ought to go see 
them, ^specially ’cause he wanted to see their 
horses. And we said we couldn’t go outside 
the gates ’thout we told you. But they said 
their mother didn’t care, and then he said I 

was ’fraid — and — and ” 

Ted stopped short. “And you went?” 
cried Aunt Anna. “ Broke your solemn 
promise to me because Tony Rowley said 
you were afraid to do what you knew was 
wrong? All strong men are afraid to do 
what is wrong, Theodore. Afraid of making 
themselves dishonorable, afraid of not being 
true and upright. Of course, you were 
afraid to break your word — didn’t you tell 
Tony so? There are two kinds of fear, little 
lad, and the fear of doing wrong is not a 
coward’s fear, but the brave man’s fear. 
Did you go, children? ” 

Ted bowed Jiis head and Dolly sobbed. 

99 


LofC, 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

Dolly, too? asked Aunt Anna sadly. 

Dolly was all right, Aunt Anna,’^ cried 
Ted. She tried her best to keep me, but I 
was ashamed to do what she said, ^cause 
Tony — well, Tony said, I minded my sister. 
And Dolly sat right down on the floor, and 
said she wouldnT go — not one bit. And we 
walked off and left her. And after we were 
gone she came, ^cause she was Traid of what 
the Gipsies might do, and she couldn’t 
ask you ’thout telling on me — don’t you 
see? ” 

I see,” said Aunt Anna, drawing Dolly 
to her. She was my conscientious little 
Dolly after all, but she got bewildered as to 
right and wrong. It would have been wiser 
to have told me, Dolly, and asked if you 
might follow Ted. Then, you see, I could 
have looked after his safety. It is mean to 
tell tales, but not to protect people from 
their owm mistakes. But all these things 
are hard to learn; it takes a while to get big 
enough always to know what is the right 
thing to do — I’m not big enough yet for that! 

100 


A THIEF IN THE NIGHT 

I am so very glad you didn^t mean to break 
your word to Aunt Anna.’^ 

Dolly did not enjoy the hint that her be- 
havior had been better than Ted^s. 

Ted would never’ve gone, aunty, if Tony 
had not done as he did,’’ she said. 

“ That doesn’t make a bit of difference,” 
said Ted stoutly. I didn’t have to do it.” 

No, it doesn’t make any difference, 
Teddy; I’m glad you see that,” said Aunt 
Anna. And I’m glad you are so manly and 
fair to Tony, though I shall not like him as 
well for trying to get you to do what you 
thought wrong; it’s a mean thing, Teddy, to 
try to push down, instead of helping up — 
don’t forget that all your life long. Now, I 
think you feel very, very sorry for having 
broken your word and disobeyed me, for the 
first time in all your life, and I don’t be- 
lieve you need any other punishment than 
the shame and trouble you have had. We’ll 
begin all over again. Promise me to be a 
real knight, square and upright, whom no- 
body can coax into dishonor, and I’ll forgive 
8 101 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

you, and trust you just as if this unhappy 
morning had never been.’’ 

Aunt Anna knew her boy. No punish- 
ment could have affected Ted like these lov- 
ing, generous words. In spite of his manli- 
ness and his eight years, he threw himself 
on her shoulder, and sobbed with all his 
might, while Dolly cried in her lap. 

I’ll promise, aunty, solemn true, black 
and blue, I wmn’t be such a coward again, 
and I’ll never, never break my word,” 
Ted cried. Not about gates, nor any- 
thing.” 

I’m sure you won’t,” said Aunt Anna, 
kissing him. Now, that’s wiped out, and 
we only remember it enough to keep away 
from anything at all like it happening again. 
I am glad you came safely from the Gipsies; 
there is some reason for Dolly’s fear of 
them.” 

They stole Lily’s chain,” said Dolly. 

A big boy snatched it off her neck, and 
when she missed it they chased us away — 
the cross man took up a knife, aunty! ” 

102 


A THIEF IN THE NIGHT 

Aunt Anna looked frightened. What 
cross man?’^ she said. 

The man that was dreadfully ugly when 
we said we’d like to see the horses,” said 
Ted. “What harm was there in that?” 

“ There has been a horse stolen from 
Farmer Upson, and the Gipsies are sus- 
pected,” said Aunt Anna. “ They probably 
thought you had been sent to spy on them. 
My dears, you have been in very bad com- 
pany — you see, don’t you, that there is good 
reason for not letting children go to all sorts 
of places? I’m sorry about the chain — poor 
little Lily must have been very badly fright- 
ened.” 

“ Oh, we were all half dead. I wish if 
anybody had to have something happen to 
them it had been Tony,” said Dolly, with the 
lasting anger against the boy who had 
tempted Ted which is natural to gentle 
creatures, who love a few people very 
dearly. 

The children ate their dinner with the 
hearty appetites which wait on minds at 
103 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

peace. It was shocking, but Lady Mew, 
Pukka Boy, and Billy were all allowed to 
come into the dining-room, and Aunt Anna 
never minded if the children fed them — how 
could she mind it when she dropped them 
the tenderest bits from her own plate? The 
reason every one loved Aunt Anna was be- 
cause the one object in her life was to give 
everything around her a good time, and let 
them do what made them happy — human 
beings or animals — as long as they did not 
do what was wrong. 

So Ted gave Pukka Boy his tidbits, in 
response to the quick taps with his paw 
which Pukka Boy gave him to remind him — 
and then sat down as quick as a flash, and 
looked as though he had never moved! And 
Dolly fed white Billy, who never got enough, 
and jumped on her shoulder if she neglected 
him, and Lady Mew gravely waited Aunt 
Anna’s kindness, which she had known for 
four years, and would not risk exchanging 
for that of new friends, and Trusty thumped 
the floor out in the hall with his tail, know- 
104 


A THIEF IN THE NIGHT 

ing the bone stage of dinner had not yet 
come. 

The children went to bed rather early, 
being tired after their wearing day, and fell 
asleep the moment their heads were on the 
pillows. Dolly’s room was on the front of 
the house, a dear little nest next Aunt 
Anna’s chamber, and Ted slept across the 
hall in the rear. He was a very sound 
sleeper, like all healthy, growing boys, and 
rarely wakened until Aunt Anna had several 
times supplemented the sun’s call to him to 
get up. 

It was the more unexpected then to Ted 
to find himself sitting up in bed in the mid- 
dle of the night, with the room perfectly 
dark, and to discover that he was straining 
to listen to something. What? He had no 
idea; nothing, probably, but something he 
had heard in a dream, as Trusty heard dogs 
digging up the bones he had buried, and 
snapped, and growled at them. So the little 
boy punched his pillow, and rolled it up into 
the ball which always distressed Aunt Anna 
105 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 


because it looked so uncomfortable, and was 
just about to plunge into it, when he did 
hear something, a faint, but distinct sound 
of a footstep on the driveway, and — could 
it be? Yes, it was — the stable door very 
slowly and quietly rolling back. 

Ted sprang out of bed in his pink pa- 
jamas, and ran to the window, peering out 
behind the blind. No one was in sight, but 
Ted waited, and in a few minutes out came a 
man from the stable, leading Roderick Dhu 
by the halter, and a big boy slouched out 
from the shade of the lilacs and joined him. 

Ted knew the man — it wa& the ugly 
Gipsy who had so frightened the children 
that morning — and he guessed that the boy 
was the thief of Lily’s chain. In an instant 
it flashed upon Ted that his disobedience and 
his foolish boasting of Rod had been the 
cause of their coming, and all alone in the 
middle of the night though he was, he re- 
solved to save Rod. 

There was no time to go to waken Fritz 
— it took a long time to do that always — 
106 


A THIEF IN THE NIGHT 
and Aunt Anna would be frightened; be- 
sides, what could she do? 

With a vague idea of making a toilet 
Ted hastily pulled on his knickerbockers 
over his pajamas, and the effect was so 
funny that it was a pity no one could see 
it. Then, slipping into his shoes, he stole 
down the stairs, and let himself out into 
the night. 

Now, Roderick Dhu could not be taught 
to behave very well in harness, but he took 
to tricks and bright little ways of his own 
as naturally as a duck to water, and this was 
because he was young and full of fun. He 
had come out quite gently when the man had 
led him forth, for he was sleepy, but now 
the air had wakened him, and he was not 
quite sure whether he would go on quietly 
on that rope halter, or not. While he was 
hesitating, with a few little dancing steps to 
fill in the time, Ted, hidden under a bush, 
whistled. One of the tricks Rod liked best 
was to rush to that whistle — a call Ted kept 
for Roderick Dhu’s special use — and get 
107 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

from Ted a lump of sugar as a reward for 
coming. 

The young horse heard the call now, and 
it startled him, coming so suddenly in the 
darkness. He leaped at the sound, plunged, 
wrested the halter from the hand holding it 
a trifle loosely, because Kod was behaving 
so lamblike, and, breaking away, ran directly 
toward Ted, then stopped short, not seeing 
him. 

The young Gipsy started in pursuit, but 
the older one grasped his shoulder. 

Stand still, you fool,’’ Ted heard him 
say in a whisper. “ Wait.” 

Again Ted w’histled, and Eod came on 
slowly, but head up and feet dancing, so full 
of fun, and life, and beauty that Ted went a 
little daft with excitement and pride in him. 
He darted out in full sight of the Gipsies, 
and caught the dragging halter. Quick, 
Fritz! Shoot ’em! ” he shouted to an imag- 
inary Fritz at his side. And as he shouted 
he had the great satisfaction of seeing the 
two Gipsies take to their heels and run for 
108 



Again Ted whistled, and Rod came on 


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A THIEF IN THE NIGHT 

their lives. It never occurred to them that 
the child who looked so small in the darkness 
in his funny costume was the only one who 
had come out to save Eoderick Dhu. 

Ted began to shake when he found him- 
self the victor on the field, but he led Eod 
back into the stable, who came quite will- 
ingly, nosing Ted’s hands and sides where 
the pockets ought to be, and wondering 
why he should not have his sugar on the 
spot. 

Ted got him into his stall, but could not 
tie him; he said a word in passing to sur- 
prised old Bevis, and pulling the door to, ran 
into the house and up to Fritz. 

“ Fritz, Fritz, get up and lock the stable, 
and stay there till morning. The Gipsies 
stole Eod, but I heard ’em and got him. 
Hurry!” he cried, hauling Fritz half out of 
bed in wild excitement. 

Of all de tings I effer haf heard!” ex- 
claimed Fritz. ‘‘ Aber, I doan’t unnerstand 
you — Vat you haf done, hey? ” 

If you wait to understand Eod will be 
109 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

as old as Bevis/’ cried Ted, dancing up and 
down wildly. Go out and stay — he came 
when I whistled — got away from the Gip- 
sies! Oh, go, Fritz, and understand in the 
morning! ’’ 

Fritz went, half believing it was not Rod, 
but a nightmare Ted had seen. The foot- 
prints on the driveway, the unfastened door, 
the sight of Roderick Dhu wandering up and 
down the stable among the carriages, with 
his halter hanging, and his legs in danger, 
convinced Fritz that Ted had not been 
dreaming. 

He made things right and tight and 
mounted guard, while Ted went back to bed, 
but not to sleep. Excitement had driven 
sleep from his eyes, and for the first time in 
his life Ted saw the sun rise. Then he fell 
asleep, and Aunt Anna did not call him, hav- 
ing learned from Fritz all he knew of Ted’s 
adventure. 

When Ted opened his eyes it was nine 
o’clock, and Aunt Anna and Dolly were 
watching him, ready to hug him when he was 
110 


A THIEF IN THE NIGHT 

ready to be hugged. For though he had 
been naughty, and had foolishly brought 
Kod into danger, he had bravely ventured 
out to save him, and his loving aunty and 
adoring twin were very proud of Ted, their 
hero. 


Ill 


CHAPTER VIII 

THE PRINCE PIPSISSEWA 

Baby Bunting grew so fast that it was 
marvelous that so small a creature as he 
was at the beginning should have so much 
growing power in his tiny body. 

Dolly remarked this, but Ted pointed out 
to her that a yeast cake was far smaller than 
Baby Bunting, and it could spread even 
faster than he did. 

There was no question now of keeping 
him in his basket; he hopped out and after his 
foster parents every time it pleased him, for 
his quivering little nose soon found the way 
to pry up the basket lid, and make a way for 
his long ears to follow. Ted and Dolly be- 
gan to think that they must make his house 
without Seth’s help if he did not turn up 
112 


THE PRINCE PIPSISSEWA 

soon, but just as they had made up their 
minds to trying their hand at a rabbit cot- 
tage, Seth came. 

Since the visit to the Gipsies the twins 
had played less with the children next 
door; for a few days they were too vivid 
reminders of an unpleasant morning, and 
the worn spot under the hedge got no new 
wear, for the neighbors all stayed on their 
own side. 

Seth came up the road this time; not 
through the orchard, and Ted and Dolly, 
spying him from the window, ran raptur- 
ously to meet him. Trusty bounded at him 
and nearly knocked him down with the en- 
thusiasm of his greeting, stretching up his 
paws to Seth’s shoulders, and licking his 
chin with more love than wisdom. 

Ted and Dolly each seized an arm of their 
friend, according to their custom, and so he 
came triumphantly to the house. 

“Haven’t you any pets, Seth?” asked 
Ted, seeing the loving look with which Seth 
received the attentions from Trusty which 
113 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

most people would have resented. “ I’ve 
never thought of it, but it’s queer you haven’t 
any dog.” 

Do you think I could have all the wdld 
creatures for pets — the birds and the rabbits 
and the squirrels — if I had a dog barking on 
ahead of me through the woods?” asked 
Seth. To be sure, I could have a dog, and 
keep him at home, but it wouldn’t be very 
kind to make him love me, and then never to 
let him go to walk with his master, would it? 
I have cats, five nice ones, but I couldn’t have 
a dog unless I gave up my beautiful woods 
wanderings, and walked the streets like 
other people. And I never could do that — 
I never have done it since I was younger 
than you are.” 

Did you always live in Methley, Seth? ” 
asked Dolly, for the first time wondering 
what sort of a childhood this man, who 
seemed so closely kin to nature, had had, 
and where it had been spent. 

“ No,” said Seth quietly, I lived where 
there were mountains — in Vermont. It 
114 


THE PRINCE PIPSISSEWA 

used to frighten my mother to have me wan- 
der off from the other children, but I never 
came to harm. Only they used to say that 
Seth would always be poor — and they were 
right. My brother was the other sort; he 
never liked to be alone, and the only plays he 
cared for were noisy ones — I was afraid of 
his sports, and he feared my solitudes.’’ 
Seth’s eyes looked more far-away than ever 
as he spoke; he seemed to be seeing the big, 
hearty, noisy boy who was his brother, and 
the silent child who had been himself. The 
children did not know that never before had 
he spoken to any one in Methley of his 
former life. 

Are you poor, Seth?” said Ted, catch- 
ing at a hint. 

“ Do rich men go about selling herbs, 
Teddy? ” asked Seth with his gentle smile. 

My wants are few, and I have always lived. 
I believe that I still shall live, but the way 
is not always quite plain.” 

Does Aunt Anna know?” said Dolly, 
for if Aunt Anna knew Seth’s troubles Dolly 
115 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

felt certain, from her own experience, that 
they could not last long. 

No, no, oh, no, indeed,’’ said Seth with 
an anxious look. There is nothing to 
know. I shall be quite happy, dears; I have 
my little house, the autumn winds give me 
fuel from my friends, the trees; my food 
comes from the kindly earth, chiefly, and 
even though my customers are few now, I 
shall be comfortable. But I must feed my 
dumb friends, and that is not so easy.” 

It must be fun to live that way and not 
need hardly any money,” said Ted. But 
Dolly did not look satisfled. Child though 
she was, she felt that Seth’s cheerfulness 
was forced, and an instinct told her that 
forced cheerfulness was more pathetic than 
complaints. 

Baby Bunting’s residence drove all other 
thoughts out of the children’s minds for the 
time, however. The lot it occupied was three 
by four feet, situated in the corner of the or- 
chard, near the house, where there was pre- 
cisely the right admixture of sun and shade. 

116 


THE PRINCE PIPSISSEWA 

Seth built the house of lathes while Ted and 
Dolly held the nails and hammer. None of 
the cats belonging to the house was so un- 
taught as to molest Baby Bunting now that 
he had moved into his own home, and it was 
built on the place — besides he was too big to 
be mistaken for a fur ball now. As to 
Trusty, he would not harm anything, no mat- 
ter w^here he found it, and there was no 
danger of strange dogs venturing on Trus- 
ty^s premises. So Baby Bunting would be as 
safe in his new quarters as in a safe-deposit 
vault and decidedly more cheerful. 

We’re going to take him to the city with 
us in September, if mama will let us; would 
that be cruel, Seth? ” inquired Ted. We’ll 
let him go if you say he’d like it better.” 

‘‘No; I think if you pet him all summer, 
it would be cruel to let him go, for he would 
not be able to take care of himself,” said 
Seth. “ Now, it is all done. We’ll put Baby 
Bunting in, give him some unusually nice 
clover, and take a little walk, if you please, 
boy and girl.” 

9 


117 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

Decidedly the children pleased. ^‘You 
lovely Seth! ’’ cried Dolly jubilantly. 

We^d rather go to walk with you, Seth, 
than do anything else in all this world,’’ said 
Ted solemnly. And we saved some lettuce 
to give Baby Bunting when he moved in; 
he’d rather have it than clover. Did you 
call him Baby Bunting ’cause his father got 
a rabbit skin to wrap him in? I never 
thought of it till yesterday.” 

That’s just why,” said Seth, as Dolly 
cried: Oh, didn’t you know? I saw that the 
first thing.” 

There has some one come to town; I 
want to introduce you to him,” said Seth. 

He’s a prince, but he is traveling incognito, 
which is what royal folk do when they don’t 
want any one to find out they are royal. I 
don’t want to tell you very much about him, 
but I’ll tell you one thing — when he goes 
among the Indians, as he sometimes does, he 
tries to cure them.” 

Where is he? What do you mean? 
Hasn’t he a name? ” cried the children. 

118 


THE PRINCE PIPSISSEWA 

“ Indeed he has a name, but I can’t tell 
you that till we meet him,” said Seth. 
“ And I’ll take you to him, which is the best 
way of telling you where he is: so come, if 
you’re ready. Put the rabbit in his house, 
and run tell your aunt that your queer, fool- 
ish Seth is going to take you to the woods 
again, if he may.” 

^^You are not foolish; you’re the wisest 
man in all the world,” said Dolly, with en- 
tire conviction, as she gently lifted Baby 
Bunting from his basket and set him down 
on his beautiful grass carpet. We’re 
ready,” she added, wiping her hands on the 
grass. 

Aunt Anna was sure never to say No to a 
walk with Seth, so Ted and Dolly were soon 
happily under way, clinging to Seth’s hands 
and taking rapturous skips every little while 
as they walked down the road. Trusty was 
allowed to come, he was so sensible, and be- 
sides he was so used to going with the chil- 
dren that it would have been hard to have 
said him nay. 


119 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

All the way down the road Ted and Dolly 
tried to guess who, or rather what, the prince 
could be, for, of course, they did not expect 
to find a real prince awaiting them in the 
woods. Knowing Seth, they were sure it 
would prove to be either a bird, or beast, or 
blossom, but Seth would not satisfy their 
curiosity; rather he whetted it to as sharp a 
point as he could, till before they got to the 
woods Ted and Dolly were quite frantic to 
see the prince. 

They turned in by a narrow path which 
almost at once ran into the shadow of big 
trees, away from the sunshine. It was a 
charming little path, winding to the right, 
bordered wfith most of the plants the chil- 
dren knew and loved in their woods walks — 
the wintergreen, the beautiful white-veined 
partridge-vine, sassafras, and violets nearly 
two months past their blossoming. Trusty 
ran swinging along, snuffing the many sorts 
of fragrance with unmistakable pleasure, 
and the children walked more quietly at 
Seth’s side, less eager for the prince now 
120 


THE PRINCE. PIPSISSEWA 

that they had come into their own proper 
kingdom. 

But they did not lose interest in him, and 
when Seth turned away from the first path 
into a still narrower one running at right 
angles with it, saying, The prince is stay- 
ing down here,’’ they pricked up ears and 
opened eyes, ready for his royal highness, 
Prince Unknown. 

They could walk in this path only single 
file, so Seth took the lead, and Ted, then 
Dolly followed. Trusty bringing up the rear 
like a respectful, polite dog. 

They came to a sandy spot, overstrewn 
with the brown leaves of more than one 
summer. Here Seth paused. There, chil- 
dren,” he said, there is the prince.” 

Ted and Dolly stared hard all about them, 
but could see nothing save a large patch of 
shining green leaves rising above the dead 
leaves feeding them, with long stems stand- 
ing up straight and tall here and there 
among the bright green foliage, and each 
stem crowned by a cluster of delicate white 
121 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

blossoms, making the air fragrant all about 
them with their sweetness. 

Where? cried Ted and Dolly. “ Where, 
Seth?'’ 

Eight at your feet," said Seth, smiling. 
“ There he is, the Prince Pine — people who 
don’t understand call him Prince’s Pine, but 
you can see that can’t be right. When he 
comes to Methley, and hides away in the 
woods like this, not wishing to have it known 
that he is a prince, he is called just Pipsis- 
sewa.’’ 

Is it only that flower? ’’ asked Ted dis- 
appointedly. Dolly’s face had fallen a little, 
but she was so considerate of Seth that she 
was trying to hide her disappointment. 

Only that flow^er? Ah, you see how 
well he is disguised! ’’ said Seth, seating him- 
self, while the children threw themselves 
half across his knees as a matter of course. 

Now, I’ll tell you. Pipsissewa came here 
once, long years ago, when the Indians 
owned all these hills, and he wms a little 
white prince, perfectly beautiful, and as 
122 


THE PRINCE PIPSISSEWA 

sweet as a child could be. And he played in 
these woods with a gay little Indian girl, and 
was very fond of her, for she did not know he 
was a prince, but called him in her own 
tongue, Pipsissewa, and the prince was hap- 
pier than he had ever been at court. They 
played together happily for several sum- 
mers, and then there came a summer in 
which the prince returned as usual, to be 
sure, but the little Indian girl he loved did 
not come to play with him, and he was sad. 
And he soon learned that the white men had 
driven the red men quite away, and that he 
should never again find his bright playmate. 
So he got the fairies which belonged to the 
king, his father, to work for him, and make 
him a charm by which he could take the form 
of a lovely flower, and sit, unseen of man, 
sheltered by his disguise, and wait in these 
woods for his little friend’s possible return, 
should she come, or if she did not, sit and 
think of her. And the leaves of the plant in 
which the prince hid were to be always 
green, to show that he never lost hope, nor 
123 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

changed in his longing for his lost comrade. 
And so, every summer, dear children, if you 
come here, you will always find the Prince 
Pine, or Prince’s Pine as people call him, 
waiting and making the air sweet with the 
fragrant thoughts he is thinking of the old 
days, and you wdll know that it is the lost 
little Indian girl’s dear Pipsissewa.” 

What a dear story! ” said Ted, thinking 
how he would wait forever, always lonely, if 
he lost Dolly. 

Did you bring us here, and make that 
all up just to please us, dear, dear Seth?” 
asked Dolly, admiring and grateful. 

You didn’t make it up? ” cried Ted. 

I made it up if any one did,” said Seth. 

But why do you think it isn’t true? ” 

It is true; I’ll have it true,” said Ted. 

^^No; it’s a darling story, but it’s just a 
story, ’cause it’s too sad to be true. I want 
the sweet Pipsissewa happy. And I know 
the rest of the story! ” cried Dolly, springing 
to her feet with her face alight with pleas- 
ure. At night, when all the big world’s 
124 


THE PRINCE PIPSISSEWA 

asleep, the same fairies that changed the 
prince bring back the little Indian girl to her 
woods, and they wave their wands and make 
Pipsissewa a live little prince again, and 
they play together all night long, and don’t 
have to kiss each other good-by till the sun 
is beginning to peep up. Isn’t that nicer? ” 
Much nicer, dearie,” said Seth, stroking 
her flying hair. I did not know you were 
a little poet, though I might have known it. 
I hope it wdll be very long that you believe 
things too sad to be true. Shall I take you 
home now, my Twinlets? ” 

^^Yes, if we must,” sighed Dolly reluc- 
tantly. No one ever loved some one, and 
missed her always and always, did he, Seth? 
That’s why that’s so sad — your story.” 

No one who came to the woods when 
he was lonely, like our Prince Pipsissewa, 
ever failed to And peace, my pet,” said Seth. 
And Dolly was not quite sure that she was 
fully answered. 


125 


CHAPTEE IX 


A SPLENDID PLAN 

I WONDER if Sethis very poor, aunty? ’’ 
said Dolly suddenly that night at twilight. 
She was curled up in her Aunt Anna’s arms, 
rocking cozily in one of the big chairs on the 
back piazza, watching the young moon going 
down in the west, and at the same time 
watching Ted give Baby Bunting his sup- 
per, for it was Ted’s turn to perform that 
duty. 

What made you think of that? ” asked 
Aunt Anna. I have been wondering the 
same thing of late. Had you any reason for 
asking? ” 

I don’t know. I don’t know just what 
he said, but when we were out to-day I was 
’fraid he was poor. He seemed sort of sad, 
126 


A SPLENDID PLAN 

and ’sif he didn’t want us to know,” said 
Dolly. 

No one knows much about Seth, dearie; 
he lives so entirely alone, except for his child 
and animal friends. Of course his wants 
are few, but he has not nearly so many cus- 
tomers as he had, and I, too, have been afraid 
of late that he might want for comforts — 
perhaps necessities — and none of us guess 
it,” said Aunt Anna. “ We will try to find 
out about it, but it would be a hard matter 
to help Seth.” 

Ted came running up from the rabbit’s 
residence, wiping his hands dry of the mois- 
ture from the lettuce and vegetables by the 
simple method of rubbing them on his gray 
knickerbockers. 

Look here, I’ve got such an idea!” he 
cried breathlessly. It’s just out of sight! 
We’ll do it — it’ll be ours, I mean — but we’ll 
get the Kowleys and Ethel and Lily to help. 
We’d better go and see them the first thing 
in the morning.” 

What a warm, excited Teddy!” ex- 
127 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

claimed Aunt Anna, pushing back the boy’s 
hair. What is the great idea, Ted, and did 
Baby Bunting whisper it to you? ” 

No, sir; it’s a bigger idea ’n Baby Bunt- 
ing’s brains could get up,” said Ted proudly. 

Dolly and I’ll start a newspaper!” 

^^Well! there’s glory for you, surely!” 
cried Aunt Anna. One of the best of Aunt 
Anna’s many good points was her love for 
Alice. 

How’d we do it? ” cried Dolly, sitting 
erect, and pushing back with both hands the 
hair she had tumbled up on Aunt Anna’s 
shoulder. 

Just like anybody else,” said Ted. 

We’d write the things, and print the paper, 
and — and — well, then ’twould be printed, 
don’t you see? ” 

What’d we do with it? ” asked Dolly. 

Do with it! ” echoed Ted. Why, we’d 
— we’d publish it, and people would take 
it to read — why, just like any newspaper! 
Why can’t you understand, Dolly? ” 

She is stunned with the prospect of be- 
128 


A SPLENDID PLAN 

ing an editor and publisher/’ laughed Aunt 
Anna. It’s a splendid plan, Teddy, and I’m 
glad you thought of it. It’s nice to play 
things that make you use your wits. Come, 
sit down here and cool off. 

“ ‘ I see by the moonlight it’s long past midnight, 
And time pig and I were home an hour and a half 
ago.’ 

It’s not quite so bad as that, but it is close to 
eight o’clock and bedtime.” 

Oh, dear,” sighed Ted. The very best 
thing about being grown up is you don’t go 
to bed when you’re not sleepy. I’ll just lie 
awake, and lie awake, planning that paper 
to-night! ” 

But he did not. He fell asleep before he 
had got much further with the introductory 
editorial which he meant to write than its 
opening words: “Dear Readers, Gentlemen 
and Ladies.” 

The very first thing after breakfast — and 
the cats’ and Trusty’s and the rabbit’s break- 
fast — Ted and Dolly crawled through the 
hole under the hedge. 

129 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

The Eowleys and their cousins saw them 
coming, and ran to meet them, glad enough 
to welcome them after the late slight cool- 
ness. 

“ We came to tell you ’bout something 
perfectly grand we’re going to do,” cried 
Dolly at long range. She had got warmed 
up to Ted’s plan during their discussion of it 
at breakfast; she had been too sleepy the 
night before to grasp it fully, or to be en- 
thusiastic, but this morning she outstripped 
Ted in her excitement over his scheme. 

“ What is it? ” the girls on the other side 
called back, running toward the hedge so 
fast that Lily’s baby doll’s long dress flut- 
tered wildly in the breeze, and Bess’s little 
girl doll lost her hat — Ethel did not care for 
dolls, and never carried them about as her 
cousin and sister did. 

It’s a newspaper we’re going to pub- 
lish,” said Ted. We want you to help. 
We’re going to have a meeting about it right 
now, in the native hut.” 

You never showed me the native hut,” 
130 


A SPLENDID PLAN 

said Dolly, remembering the fact for the first 
time. 

“ We’ve seen it; it’s down ’way at the end 
of our place,” said Bess. Come on now, 
and have the meeting and then Dolly’ll 
see it.” 

The native hut ” consisted solely of a 
flooring of pine boards, held in its place in 
the crotch of a tree by nails, and still more 
by tight wedging. The children admired it 
greatly, especially the very wiggly steps 
which led up to it, but older eyes might have 
viewed it with some doubt of its entire 
safety. 

What do we do to have a meeting? ” 
asked Ethel, running up and down these 
steps twice in rapid succession. 

We all come into the hut,” said Ted, 
and we decide what we’ll do. First, I vote 
that we give up the Christian Believing So- 
ciety, ’cause we haven’t any one to relieve, 
and nothing to relieve with, and ’cause it’s 
no fun. Who votes like me?” 

“ I do,” echoed the other five children, 
131 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

Dolly looking anxiously at Tony as she did 
so, fearing he would be sensitive at a re- 
minder of the visit to the Gipsies, and dread- 
ing to hurt him, angry though she had been 
with him. 

Now, who will join the publishing com- 
pany that’s going to publish the best paper 
in Methley? ” inquired Ted, safe in his state- 
ment, since Methley published no newspaper 
at the time. 

Eager voices, without one dissenting, 
protested their desire to join in the great 
project. 

Dolly and you must write it,” said Tony. 

We can’t, but we’ll help print it.” 

Then the editors are Mr. Theodore 
Tarleton and Miss Dorothea Tarleton,” de- 
clared Ted willingly. Now, what’ll we 
call the paper? ” 

The Herald,” said Tony promptly, un- 
able to soar in imagination beyond the name 
of the paper his father took in the city. 
u rpjjg Twins’ Times,” suggested Ethel. 

That’ll mean you started it, and you tell in 
132 


A SPLENDID PLAN 

it the things you do; the times you have, you 
know.’’ 

Yes, but it’s all of our paper,” said 
Dolly, getting mixed in her expression of an 
idea quite clear to them all. 

Call it the Ours,” said Bess. 

No, the Daily is better than Hours,” 
said Tony, misunderstanding. 

Oh, don’t let us publish it every day! ” 
cried Dolly in dismay. We’ve got to print 
it all by hand, and it would take every min- 
ute to have a paper every day — it would be 
worse’n school! ” 

It ought to be every day,” said Ted, who 
saw the paper as a great New York sheet. 

Well, every week then at first,” he yielded. 

My father knows all about books and 
papers, and all those things, ’cause he’s a 
fine lawyer, and went to Harvard College. 
I guess he takes the best paper — he’d be 
sure to. Let’s name ours after his, ’cause he 
says it’s fearfully bright. We’ll name it The 
Sun.” 

I never did think that was fair,” said 
10 133 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

Dolly thoughtfully. ‘‘You know the moon 
shines when the sun is lighting up Asia, and 
I think they ought to call things after it just 
as much. I say, let’s call our paper The 
Sun and Moon, ’cause it’s much fairer, and it 
will make people understand that they can 
read it at night just as well as in the morn- 
ing. It’s such a pretty name, too.” 

“ Yes, I like that name,” said Lily deci- 
dedly, and Ethel and Bess agreed with her, 
so the majority were strongly in favor of 
Dolly’s suggestion, although Ted was doubt- 
ful at first, and Tony protested against it. 

Tony’s protest seemed to clear Ted’s 
doubts away, however, and so the paper was 
named The Sun and Moon, and Ethel, who 
loved to draw, sat down to sketch a heading 
for it on the white pine boards of the fioor- 
ing; a large sun rising in the midst of 
many rays, and a very round moon, with a 
smiling face in it, at the other end of the 
picture. 

“ What shall we charge for the suscrip- 
tions?” asked the founder of The Sun and 
134 


A SPLENDID PLAN 

Moon, who rarely tripped on a word, but was 
only mortal after all. 

Twenty-five cents a year,’’ said Tony as 
quickly as though he had spent months con- 
sidering it. 

Oh, my; I thought about five!” ex- 
claimed Ted. 

Have it come out every week and be 
only five cents a year? Do you mean a 
year? ” asked Tony, evidently disgusted with 
Ted’s business ability. 

Well, I did, yes,” hesitated Ted. 

I sh’d think you were crazy! Who do 
you s’pose ’d want such a cheap thing? ” de- 
manded Tony, who had the making of a 
financier in him. “ Twenty-five cents a year, 
I say.” 

Do you s’pose any one’ll take it any- 
how? ” asked Ted, with that sudden drop in 
his courage about the paper which is apt to 
follow great enthusiasm. And how’ll we 
get the suscribers? ” 

“ We’ll go to all the nice houses in Meth- 
ley,” said Tony, who was proving himself 
135 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 


most valuable in this part of the ne'svspaper’s 
founding. We’ll tell the people we’re go- 
ing to start a paper, and we’ll ask them to 
take it. And most of ’em will.” 

What’ll we do with the money? Say, 
Tony, I guess we can’t ask so much, ’cause 
the paper won’t cost us a cent, ’cept a few 
cents for paper and things, and we can’t 
take money like that for it,” said Ted. 

We’ll divvy up the money, all of us 
publishers, and we’ll have some fun. Don’t 
you s’pose the men that have those papers in 
New York make any money? Don’t you 
s’pose we ought to make some, when we do 
the work, and write the stuff? I know a 
man — he was young, too — ’bout twenty — 
and he got ten dollars just for one story! I 
guess ’twould be a nice thing if we all 
worked hard, and got that paper up fine, and 
you and Dolly wrote stories and poetry — 
only poetry ain’t worth much — and didn’t 
get enough to buy one ice-cream soda all 
’round!” And Tony’s expression was more 
scornful than words. 


136 


A SPLENDID PLAN 

Well, if it’s fair,” assented Ted doubt- 
fully. I don’t want to do what isn’t real 
square.” 

“Who does?” demanded Tony. “It’s 
square to charge what it’s worth. How 
much is twenty-five cents a year for each 
number? ” 

Ted looked embarrassed, but Bess, who 
wms fond of arithmetic, said: “There are 
fifty-two weeks every year — twice twenty- 
five’s fifty — why, it’s only half a cent a num- 
ber, and give us two weeks’ vacation pub- 
lishing it to make up the other two weeks. 
That isn’t much, Teddy! ” 

“ So it isn’t! ” said Ted, with a sigh of re- 
lief. “ Well, then, it’s all settled, and we 
must begin just’s soon as we can.” 

“ We ought to get the people to take 
it first, and then begin. Say, are you 
going to make a copy for every one of 
’em? ’Cause if you are, we’ll be dead,” 
said Tony. 

“ My! I never thought of that! ” groaned 
Ted. 


137 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 


No, sir; one paper, and let it go around, 
or maybe two, if there’s lots taking it,” said 
Ethel, with her usual decision. 

Something’s funny!” cried Dolly. ^^The 
floor’s breaking! Oh, we’re going, we’re 
going! ” 

They were indeed. With a sudden 
cracking and splitting, the boards sank down 
on one end of the floor of the native hut ” 
and crashed to the ground, taking with them 
their freight of frightened children. It was 
not a long fall, but, unfortunately, the end of 
the flooring which had given way was the 
one which was most free of the friendly help 
of the crotch, and all six children were 
thrown to the earth with considerable force. 
Tony, Dolly, and Ted fell on the three others, 
and sprang to their feet instantly, badly 
shaken and frightened, but otherwise quite 
unharmed. Bess emerged with a bleeding 
lip, for she had fallen on her doll, and the 
pretty flaxen-haired Kosabel had been bro- 
ken in the accident, and had wounded her 
little mother, though the cut lip was nothing 
138 


A SPLENDID PLAN 

to the anguish of looking on RosabePs 
crushed face. 

EthePs dress was torn, but she herself 
was quite sound. Lily had fallen under all 
the others, and now did not rise when the 
removal of their weight left her free to 
do so. 

Are you hurt, Lily? ” cried Dolly anx- 
iously. Ethel stooped over her sister and 
tried to pull her up, but Lily moaned, and 
shook off EthePs hand. 

What’s the matter? ” asked Ted, who 
privately considered little Lily the most 
charming of the three little girls next door. 

My ankle hurts dreadfully,” sighed 
Lily. I can’t get up. You’ll have to go 
call somebody.” 

“ No, we won’t,” said Tony. We’ll help 
you. Ted and Ethel can make a chair — you 
know how, Ted? If you don’t they’ll show 
you. Stop crying, Bess, and help Lily. 
What’s the difference if your doll’s head did 
crack? She’s just a doll. Bess and I’ll lift 
you up, Lil, and put you on the chair. Just 
139 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

see what a nice one Ethel and Ted’ve 
made! ” 

But Lily cried on, and refused to lift her 
eyes. Bess bent over her. Is your Baby 
Blossom broken, too, Lily? she asked, in 
the voice of one who is tasting bereavement 
at its bitterest. 

No,’’ sobbed Lily. I held her up, and 
kept the hit off her with my arms.” 

Then you needn’t cry,” said Bess. Let 
them take you home.” 

Lily turned slightly. Take the baby, 
then, and don’t hurt my ankle — it’s all awful 
now,” she said. 

Bess and Dolly and Tony lifted her very 
gently and set her on the chair Ted and 
Ethel had made ready by clasping each 
other’s wrists. Poor little Lily was very 
white, and the children made up their minds 
on the spot that her ankle was broken. 

So it was a very dismal procession that 
wended its way back to the house, the three 
who were not wounded or part of the chair, 
supporting Lily at the back, Bess giving 
140 


A SPLENDID PLAN 

vent to a tearing sob at intervals as she 
looked down on Rosabel lying, past all hope, 
in her arms. 

I^m glad we got the paper settled before 
it happened,” said Tony. And, say, Lily, 
isn’t it nice? Aren’t you proud? The very 
first piece of news we’ve got to put in The 
Sun and Moon is the dreadful accident to 
Miss Lillian Howell! It’s going to be just 
like a real paper, and you’re beginning it.” 

But Lily did not seem to be able to rise to 
this generous view of herself as an inter- 
esting news item. Her pretty head drooped, 
and her tears fell quietly, as she rode along, 
an arm around Ted’s and Ethel’s neck, and 
the poor little ankle quivering with pain. 


141 


CHAPTER X 


THE SUBSCRIPTION LIST 

The children were not right in their opin- 
ion of Lily’s ankle. It was not broken, but 
the injury proved to be a bad strain, and 
might take longer to get well, the doctor 
said, than if the soft little bones had been 
broken. 

You can’t go with us to get suscri- 
bers,” said Dolly, pronouncing the word just 
as her twin did, of course. 

“ I think I’m glad of it,” said Lily from 
the depths of her armchair, whence she re- 
garded the world at large without the slight- 
est desire to make a “ house-to-house can- 
vass ” for subscribers to The Sun and Moon. 

I don’t like to go either,” confessed 
Dolly, but it’s mean not to when Ted must, 
142 


THE SUBSCRIPTION LIST 

and I’m one of the editors. I thought I’d 
say I’d stay with you, but I knew ’twas try- 
ing to get out of things.” 

“ I know a secret,” said Lily, less inter- 
ested in the paper than she might be. My 
aunty sent to the city for a new doll, just the 
same’s Rosabel, for Bess. She sent Rosa- 
bel’s body — don’t you tell.” 

Oh, I’m glad of that!” cried Dolly. 
“ Bess feels so bad she can’t forget it. I 
hope it’ll get here right off, so’s she can help 
us better.” 

It’ll come to-morrow. Aunt Bessie told 
me, ’cause I sprained my ankle,” said Lily. 

Dolly, Dolly, come along,” called Tony. 

They’re all waiting for you at the gate. 
They sent me back to say they couldn’t wait 
’nother minute; they’ll start if you don’t 
hurry.” 

All right. I’ll come now,” said Dolly, 
rising with a sigh that alone should express 
how gladly she would be left behind. Good- 
by, Lily; we’ll play with you this afternoon 
— house — I’ll bring my dolls.” 

143 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

There was a difference of opinion as to 
where the canvassers for the paper should 
go first. Ted advocated the law as most im- 
portant to a paper’s standing, the law being 
represented by Squire White, who served as 
judge in county court. But Dolly wished to 
go first to Doctor Corbin, not only because 
the doctor struck her as the greatest man 
in town, but because she loved him dearly; 
and Tony — whom you never would have sus- 
pected of thinking first of the church — was 
strongly for securing the Methodist minister 
as the first subscriber, because, he said, his 
name would look well at the head of the list. 
Decidedly Tony was wise in his generation, 
for as soon as he said this the others saw 
the force of his reasoning — and there was no 
other minister in Methley. Of course, no 
outsider could really be the very first sub- 
scriber, because the twins had twenty-five 
cents from Aunt Anna for her subscrip- 
tion, and Mrs. Rowley had promptly handed 
over her first year’s subscription to Tony 
and Bess, but this was so evident that it 
144 


THE SUBSCRIPTION LIST 

was not necessary to put their names 
down. 

So the five agents for The Sun and Moon 
pushed open the Reverend Mr. Amos Allen’s 
gate and rang his bell with their knees sha- 
king like the bell wire — for even Tony wilted 
a good deal under the actual ordeal. 

They were shown into the study, and Mr. 
Allen looked up from the foolscap on which 
he was neatly copying his last Sunday’s ser- 
mon, with a view to having it included in the 
volume of sermons he meant to publish. 

“ Well, my little friends,” he said in a 
voice plainly labeled kindly.” Well, and 
what can I do for you? ” 

The children nudged one another, wait- 
ing for some one to begin, with the result 
that no one began. I think you are not my 
Sunday-school children, are you?” said Mr. 
Allen, hoping to set their tongues free. 

No, sir; we don’t go to Sunday-school 
here,” said Ted faintly, for he felt this was a 
bad beginning. “ Aunt Anna teaches us 
things — Sunday-school things — on Sundays, 
145 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

and we go at home.’’ He hoped the minister 
would not think them heathens. 

Did you come to ask admission to our 
Sunday-school, my dears? ” asked Mr. Allen. 

We are going to publish a paper — it 
will be the only paper in Methley, and we’re 
going to write it and print it ourselves, and 
it is named The Sun and Moon; we came to 
see if you want to take it. It costs twenty- 
five cents a year; comes out every week,” said 
Tony, plucking up heart. 

“ I have no doubt I shall enjoy it,” said 
the minister, and he smiled, though he did 
not look amused. I will subscribe for it. 
Did your parents send you here?” 

No,” said Dolly eagerly, for she instinc- 
tively felt that Mr. Allen thought they were 
queer people if they had sent them. “ Our 
papa and mama are in New York, and Aunt 
Anna didn’t know just what we were going 
to do, ’cause she was so busy this morning 
we couldn’t ’splain much; she knew we 
wanted to go out about the paper, and she 
said we might, but that’s all.” 

146 


THE SUBSCRIPTION LIST 

<< Very well, my children; I will give you 
twenty-five cents, and you will send me your 
paper when it appears. I hope you will use 
the money very wisely,’’ said Mr. Allen, 
taking a bright quarter out of a little leather 
change purse that gathered up like a tobacco 
pouch. 

“ Thank you, sir,” said the children in 
chorus. They felt like beggars — a feeling 
they had not foreseen, for they meant to 
give their subscribers the full value of 
their money, and believed that they could 
do so. 

He was all right,” said Ted at last. 
They had walked along in silence for a short 
distance after leaving the house till the air 
and sunshine had scattered the oppression 
of their spirits. “ He was very nice, but he 
doesn’t know how to talk limber — he’s all 
stiff, like as if he was in meeting. We’ll put 
some jokes in The Sun and Moon just for him 
— to make him laugh higher up on his face 
than he does.” 

“ Here’s the doctor,” cried Dolly joy- 
147 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

ously. We’ll stop him and tell him about 
the paper here.” 

Whoa, Noll! ” said the doctor, reining in 
his horse, who was ready and used to stop 
anywhere. 1 can’t take you all in when 
I’ve got only my buggy, with one seat! You 
ought to know better than expect it,” he 
cried, leaning out. 

Ethel began to bridle, not being used to 
the doctor’s ways, but Ted and Dolly laughed 
up into the kind face. 

W'e were going to see you. Doctor Cor- 
bin,” said Dolly eagerly — suddenly the paper 
had got back into its own place and aspect 
as the nicest thing, something that any one 
would be glad to hear of. We’re going to 
have a paper — Ted thought of it ” 

Dolly and I are going to write it, and 
we’re all going to print it — by hand, you 
know — and she wanted it called The Sun and 
Moon, not just The Sun, ’cause she thought 
it wasn’t fair,” cried Ted. 

“ And w’e’re out getting subscribers,” 
added Tony. 


148 


THE SUBSCRIPTION LIST 

Put me down for three copies,” said the 
doctor. Why, it will be great! I’m tre- 
mendously interested, and Methley has no 
paper. Here, how much is it?” And the 
doctor began fumbling in his great, baggy 
pockets for change. 

“ Twenty-five cents a year, but there’s no 
use in suscribing for more’n one copy, ’cause 
we’d die if we had to print a lot of ’em, so 
we’re only going to print one copy, and let it 
go ’round,” explained Dolly. 

“ To be sure; just as well — better, in fact. 
Here’s twenty-five cents, then, and I call that 
cheap for what I know I’ll get. Now, get in, 
and I’ll take you where you’re going, or 
where I’m going, and I don’t believe it would 
make a bit of difference which it was,” said 
the doctor. “ I don’t think much of five 
children that can’t pile in on a buggy fioor 
and one seat! Dolly comes between my 
knees — hurry up, Dolly T. ! Ted and Tony sit 
on the fioor, back to back — like the Virginia 
reel — with legs hanging over, and if these 
two little girls can’t squeeze into one seat 
11 149 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

they’re far wider than they look. Get in, my 
five scamps, or I’ll get out and vaccinate you 
all on the spot.” 

The children scrambled in, laughing and 
crowding, the Rowleys and Ethel suddenly 
discovering, what Ted and Dolly had known 
all along, that their friend, the doctor, was a 
real child’s man. 

Doctor Corbin set them down, quite 
breathless over his jokes, in front of Squire 
White’s place, and the children grew sedate 
again by the time they had traversed the long 
walk, and rapped with the old-time knocker 
on the door with its brass knobs and fan 
transom. Squire White’s grave house- 
keeper let them in — she was really more 
alarming than the squire himself; she was 
so thin, to begin with, that she always re- 
minded Ted of the bones of the long antedi- 
luvian creatures in the museum, those things 
that always have saur ” for the last sylla- 
ble of their name, and whose other syllables 
may be anything — that you can’t pronounce. 

Yes, you can see the squire,” said Mrs. 

150 


THE SUBSCRIPTION LIST 

Mellen, when the children put the ques- 
tion, inwardly wondering what could have 
brought five such small, rosy clients to the 
famous man of Methley. Then she showed 
them into the dark parlor, with the sifted 
light dimly betraying its awfulness, and left 
them. 

The squire came in immediately. He was 
tall and thin, too, and the children felt 
transparent to their backbones under his 
glasses — he wore glasses, so they concluded 
him old, but he was not much past middle 
life. 

Once more Ted and Tony in duet told the 
story of their plan. Something like a gleam 
of fun shot through the glasses, but before 
the surprised children could feel sure they 
had seen it, it was gone. 

“ Certainly, I will subscribe for The Sun 
and Moon,’’ said Squire White gravely. I 
intend always to support anything for the 
good of the town, and we need a newspaper. 
Please put me on your list. Here is a quar- 
ter of a dollar. I think you said that is 
151 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

your subscription rate? Will you kindly 
give me a receipt for that sum? Which 
is your treasurer, who signs checks and re- 
ceipts? ” 

The children looked blankly from one 
to another; they had not expected such for- 
midable measures, and they doubted the 
squire’s seriousness. But not a trace of a 
smile could they discover on the long, sharp 
face. 

“ I guess Tony had better do that,” said 
Ted. Dolly and I are editors and writers, 
and Tony’s the one for those things.” 

He looks more like it than you do,” said 
the squire, glancing from Ted’s sensitive lit- 
tle face to Tony’s strong, keen one. “ But 
I am shocked that you have not arranged for 
such an important matter as the finances of 
your paper. Come, then, sir; draw up to 
that table, and w^rite me a receipt for twen- 
ty-five cents for one year’s subscription to 
The Sun and Moon.” 

Tony drew up as he was bidden, but 
once at the table he sat helplessly sucking 
152 


THE SUBSCRIPTION LIST 

the end of the pen which Squire White 
handed him. 

I don't know how,’’ Tony said at last. 

Don’t know how! A publisher, and 
can not write a receipt! Well, I am sur- 
prised! However, you know what you want 
to say, and the best rule under those circum- 
stances is to say it as clearly as you can. I 
can not dictate my own receipt,” said Squire 
White. 

For the life of him, Tony could not see 
why the squire might not give him a hint, at 
least, but he dared not ask it, and so wrote: 

We say in this we got a quarter from 
Squire White for the sun and moon a year 
and we promise to send him the paper for 
this till it runs out.” 

“ What shall I sign it, sir? ” he asked, as 
he blotted the great drop of ink which his too 
full pen had shed on the paper. 

My conscience, sir, do I know your 
name? Sign it, whatever it may be, and 
add: ^ For the publishers.’ I can’t have you 
suing me for my subscription, in case the 
153 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

publishers won’t stand by your receipt,” 
said the squire, so sternly that the children 
felt quite sure that this time he was in ear- 
nest. 

We shall stand by whatever Tony does,” 
said Ted quickly. And we wouldn’t ask 
you for your suscription over again, not if 
you didn’t have any receipt.” 

That’s right; be perfectly honest, and 
don’t publish news that may not be true on 
another day if not on the one on which you 
say it’s so,” said the squire, and this time 
Ted felt sure he let his eyes twinkle, as if to 
console the editor for having his honesty 
questioned. 

Tony signed his name, Frederick Eowley, 
in his best style, but he had some doubts of 
the form of the receipt. The squire took it 
and buttoned it inside his coat. 

Thank you. I shall be glad to receive 
my first number. Have you many subscri- 
bers so far? ” he said, as he showed the chil- 
dren to the door with as perfect politeness 
as if they had been grown-up guests. 

154 


THE SUBSCRIPTION LIST 

“ Aunty and Tonyas mother, and the doc- 
tor, and Mr. Allen and you — that’s five, but 
we shall have more, we think,” said Dolly. 

We’re going to get all we can, and then we 
shall make our first paper.” 

Yes, ma’am,” said the squire. 1 am 
very much obliged to you for giving me an 
early chance to subscribe. And I have heard 
a great deal of the hustling newspaper 
women of New York, so that I am glad of 
the opportunity to see one.” 

This time all the children were perfectly 
sure that the squire was jesting, and ven- 
tured to look fully into his eyes. They were 
brimming wdth laughter, and the five pro- 
prietors of the yet unrisen Sun and Moon 
burst out laughing too. It was not likely 
that any one could mistake little Dolly — 
quiet, gentle, quaint little Dolly — for a hus- 
tling anything, much less a grown woman. 
So the five departed in good spirits from 
Squire White’s. 

The morning expedition was most suc- 
cessful; no one said them nay. Even Miss 
155 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

Tabitha Brown, whom most of Methley con- 
sidered crazy, but whom the children ad- 
mired because she filled her house with the 
lost and maimed among the Methley dogs 
and cats — even Miss Tabitha gave them her 
name and urged them to devote a corner to 
Our Dumb Friends, which the editors were 
more than willing to do. 

The five canvassers started for home with 
three dollars and seventy-five cents burning 
holes in their pockets, and searing Ted’s 
conscience with fears of the paper not being 
worth so much money. But Tony was tri- 
umphantly delighted; fifteen subscribers! 
That was worth while! The only draw^back 
to it was that they would have to print two 
copies to get The Sun and Moon around to 
them all in time. 

As they hastened along toward home 
under the hot noontide sun, the children saw 
ahead of them a familiar stooping figure, 
with a basket on its arm, and ran to over- 
take Seth. 

‘‘Seth, Seth!” they cried. “Stop and 
156 


THE SUBSCRIPTION LIST 

listen. We’re going to have a paper, and 
we’ve been getting people to take it. We’ve 
got fifteen — twenty-five cents each a year. 
And we’re going to have a corner for animals 
— Miss Tabitha asked us to! ” 

Seth smiled down on them affectionately. 

That sounds pleasant, little folk,” he said. 
Something in his voice, a tired note, and 
something in the gentle patience of his smile 
smote Dolly’s heart with a pang she was too 
little to understand. 

‘‘ We’re going to make you an hon-hon- 
orable suscriber!” she cried, taking Seth’s 
hand, and cuddling close to him as she had 
a way of doing. 

Yes, you shall see the paper first of any- 
body when it comes out,” said Ted. And 
I’ll tell you what we’ll do. We’ll print an 
advertisement for you of your herbs and 
things, and put it in free — just for nothing, 
you know.” 

Thank you very much,” said Seth, sin- 
cerely, appreciating the fact that Ted was 
doing all he could to further his interests. 

157 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 


That’s nothing; you do lots for us/’ 
said Ted, in a manly tone. 

Besides, you know we love you more’n 
any one outside our very selves — mama and 
papa and aunty,” said Dolly, with a caress of 
the hand she held. And then they parted. 


158 


CHAPTEE XI 


THE SUN AND MOON’S RISING 

we do it in ink it’ll be mussy,” said 
Dolly. Her tone was final with conviction, 
not to say despair; her elbows rested on the 
table, and before her lay several pencils, two 
penholders and paper, and a bottle of ink 
and a dictionary stood obediently waiting to 
serve her. Ted, at the table also, was ready 
to begin editorial labors; Bess and Ethel 
were busy cutting large sheets of white 
paper into the size upon which they had 
agreed for The Sun and Moon; and Lily, still 
weak in the ankle, but better, was watching 
her companions with unfeigned admiration. 

You see,” said Dolly, it’s this way: we 
might get one page all right in ink, but a 
whole paper, and printing, and trying to 
159 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

keep the letters plain, and get ’em all in, 
we’d be sure to begin to blot just’s soon 
as we got tired — and we’ll be tired doing it 
twice! Tired enough! ’Sides, we couldn’t 
rub out, and the pages’d be as mussy! I say 
pencils.” 

‘‘ And if we use pencils it’ll get all 
rubbed before the last one’s seen it,” said 
Ted. But maybe it’s better. Only I think 
we ought to put the name in ink, and the 
date and place, and such things.” 

‘‘Ethel has to do that; she can draw. 
Come over here, Ethel, and make that pic- 
ture you made on the boards that day in the 
native hut, when we tumbled through — the 
picture you were going to have at the top of 
The Sun and Moon,” said Dolly. 

Ethel came, dipped her pen into the ink, 
and drew two long lines all across the page, 
then two up and down at the ends of these, 
and in the space thus enclosed made once 
more the radiant sun and the smiling moon 
which she had drawn on the white pine floor 
of the boys’ “ native hut.” 

160 



The editorial office of The Sun and Moon 








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THE SUN AND MOON’S RISING 

“ Tony can print better’n me/’ she said, 
laying down the pen — right on the newly 
headed page! 

Now, Ethel, just see what you’ve done! ” 
cried Dolly, ready to cry. And Ted added: 
^‘That’s just like you, Ethel; you can’t re- 
member one minute. Now you’ve got to do 
it over on another sheet.” 

“ Well, it’s worse for me,” said Ethel, im- 
patient with herself and all the others. But 
she went to work over again, and this time, 
when she laid the pen down, there was no 
great blot below the heading, for the pen 
was deposited so near the edge of the table 
that it rolled off altogether, and shed its one 
remaining inky tear on little white Billy’s 
very long tail. The cats had come up to 
oversee the issuing of The Sun and Moon, 
as became such wise animals. 

Oh, dear!” sighed Dolly. ^^We can’t 
blot Billy, but I guess it’ll wear off. Now, 
what do we put first, Ted? ” 

News on the front page,” said Ted 
promptly. Methley news first, and the 
161 


AT AUNT ANNA'S 


most important first of that. And the worst 
thing we know of now is Lily’s getting hurt. 
We’ll write first and then copy.” So with 
his tongue slightly extended — like Pukka 
Boy’s when he was happy — Ted began to 
record the accident in the native hut.” 

When Mr. Kowley and Miss Kowley, and 
Miss Ethel Howell, and Miss Lily Howell 
and Miss Dorothea Tarleton and Mr. Theo- 
dore Tarleton were gathered in the native 
hut made in a tree by some tribes which lived 
here once the floor broke recently, and let 
them all through, but Some of them fell on 
top of others, and they were not hurt, but 
Miss Rowley’s daughter, Rosabel, which she 
held in her arms was broke so bad she was 
killed, and Miss Lillian Howell was in the 
bottom row and she sprained her ankle and 
was laid up a While, but is now some better, 
it pains us to say all this, but it is true.” 

“ That’s fearfully — dreadfully long, Ted,” 
said Dolly, beginning to copy, having looked 
up all the words they were uncertain how to 
spell. 


162 


THE SUN AND MOON’S RISING 

That’s good,” said Tony, “ for we don’t 
know any more news. What shall we put 
on the first page, ’sides that? ” 

“ Things about people,” said Ted prompt- 
ly. ‘‘Here’s one: ‘We noticed when we 
drove down town that the streets were dusty 
for the horses it would be well to water 
them.’ ” 

“What’s that got to do with people?” 
cried Bess from her post, still cutting indus- 
triously. 

“ It’s got a lot to do with the people 
driving,” said Ted. “And here’s another: 
‘ Mr. Peter Hooper’s daughter Jennie we 
hear has a fine yellow puppy.’ ” 

“ That’s a good one. And here’s an- 
other: ‘Mr. and Mrs. Tarleton are ex- 
pected to come to Methley in August,’ ” 
added Tony, supplying an item which he 
thought the twins’ modesty would not 
suggest. 

“ That’s enough,” cried Dolly, who had 
been printing away for dear life. “ That 
fills the page.” 


163 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

You ought to make letters closer,” said 
Tony. 

I can’t, and have ’em so they can be 
read,” said Dolly, opening and shutting her 
fingers several times. “Ow! It makes my 
hand ache to hold the pencil so hard!” 

Hold it looser then,” suggested Ted. 
“ I’ll print now, Dolly, ’cause the story comes 
next, and that you have to write.” 

^^No, first the poetry, in the left-hand 
corner,” said Dolly, who had come prepared. 

Here’s some I made up last night after I 
went to bed. It’s called Slowly and Surely; 
or. The Best Way, and this is it: 

“ Slowly and surely the bird builds her nest, 

Slowly and surely of all ways is best. 

Things that are hurried are never well done ; 

People stumble if too fast they run. 

Step by step the little ones walk ; 

Word by word they learn to talk ; 

Under the sea where the coral is made 

Slowly and surely the reefs are laid.” 

A murmur of admiration followed Dol- 
ly’s reading of this original poem, while 
164 


THE SUN AND MOON’S RISING 

the author tried to look modest, and Ted 
beamed on his friends, not at all trying to 
look modest, for he was immensely proud 
of Dolly^s genius, as he firmly believed it 
to be. 

“ I don^t see — I do not see, Dolly, how 
you can think of such be-au-ti-ful things!” 
said Bess. And Lily sighed as she added: 

If I could write poetry like that I don’t see 
how I could ever bear to do one other thing. 
Does it feel nice coming? ” 

It’s kind of exciting,” admitted Dolly. 
“ I couldn’t go to sleep for ever so long last 
night doing that; I had to get up and write 
it in the cover of my dolls’ ribbon-box, for 
fear I’d forget it.” 

Put that in, Ted,” said Tony briskly, 
“ and put Dolly’s name to it. Now, are you 
going to write the story too?” 

If I must,” sighed Dolly, but really she 
was glad to do it. With the speed born of 
the fact that Ted was to copy what she 
wrote, Dolly scribbled the following brief 
tale: 


13 


165 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 


“THE ADVENTURES OF KENNIBRIDGE 

“ They called him Kennibridge because 
he was a fairy that looked like a kitten and 
he lived on the bridge, but I don’t know why 
it was Kenni too. He was a good fairy, and 
all his life he had been born to do no work, 
but another, stronger fairy magicked him, 
and he had to work for his living keeping the 
giant mice from gnawing up the bridge. 
And he was nearly dead doing what he 
wasn’t used to, when one day he caught a 
weeping mouse, and he was a kind fairy, so 
he was sorry for the mouse, and he said: 
^ Don’t cry, little mouse, or else tell me why 
and you won’t have to.’ And the mouse said 
he cried because he thought his mother 
would hate to have him caught. And Ken- 
nibridge said: ‘ I had a mother who brought 
me up to do no work, being a queen mother, 
and for her sake I will let you go.’ And the 
mouse was glad, and he told Kennibridge a 
secret word which all mice were afraid of, 
and if Kennibridge said it in the middle of 
166 


THE SUN AND MOON’S RISING 

the bridge they would all leave it forever. 
So he thanked the mouse and it ran off, and 
Kennibridge said the w’ord — hollered it — 
in the middle of the bridge, and all the mice 
left it, and he never had to work again.^’ 
This story was received with as much 
admiration as had greeted the poem, and 
Ted copied it into The Sun and Moon. 

That^s as much as we can put in, except 
the advertisements,’^ he announced. “ We’ll 
advertise some of our friends free — if they 
get an advertisement for nothing they can’t 
think the suscription is dear.” Which re- 
mark betrayed that Ted’s first doubt still 
lurked about him. 

Seth’s first!” cried Dolly, and she and 
Ted put their heads together to make it as 
good as possible. The result of their com- 
bined efforts was soon attained. 

Mr. Seth Atterbury gets herbs and 
makes them into S. Scents.” [The children 
mistook the word essences for one of the 
kind of words found on bottles in drug 
stores, preceded by an initial letter.] He 
167 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

keeps herbs and dried flowers and S. Scents 
which are the best in the world, and he 
knows everything about woods and animals, 
if you have the wildest cat or dog he will 
make it love him. We hope everybody in 
the world will buy of him, for he is so dear 
and good, and needs to sell. Address this 
paper because he is almost always in the 
woods.” 

That’s nice,” said Ethel approvingly. 

I guess SethTl get rich after that, for 
everybody in Methley’ll see it.” 

^^Now the doctor!” cried Lily, clap- 
ping her hands; since her accident she had 
grown as fond of the doctor as the twins 
were. 

I’ll write that quick,” said Ted, and 
wrote: ‘^‘Doctor Corbin can cure whatever 
ails you. Hardly any of his patients die ec- 
cept the old ones. If you have any sickness 
send for him because he is the best the peo- 
ple that have him don’t look the same be- 
fore and after.’ You see,” said Ted, looking 
up, if I had two pictures of before and 
168 


THE SUN AND MOON’S RISING 

after taking his medicines, I could put them 
in, but I haven’t, so I just say it.” 

That’s all right,” said Tony. Any- 
body could understand it. Who’s next?” 

I think we ought to put in the squire; 
he takes the paper, and he’s one of the great- 
est people in Methley,” said Dolly. 

That’ll be harder to write,” said Ted. 

You help. Twin Doll.” 

So the twins again united their wits, and 
produced the following: ^ If you are in 
trouble get Squire White to fix you up he is 
a lawyer that does anything for his — ’ 
What do you call the people that have law- 
yers? Are they patients, like a doctor’s?” 
asked the editor-in-chief, pausing with his 
freshly wetted pencil on his lip. 

“No; they’re not patients. I don’t know 
what they are, but they’re not patients,” 
said Ethel, and Tony and Dolly and Bess 
agreed in the opinion, as they shared the 
ignorance of the right term. 

“ Well, we’ll call them just sufferers, be- 
cause they wouldn’t go to law if they did not 
169 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 


suffer,’’ said Ted, bending to write again. 

^ A lawyer that does anything for his suf- 
ferers. Lost money found and stolen things 
given back. He is sure to win always be- 
cause he is the judge too.’ ” 

It seems mean to leave the minister 
out,” remarked Tony, feeling, perhaps, that 
Mr. Allen was his protege, since it was he 
who had insisted on going to him first. 

We didn’t like him like these ones, but I 
guess he did his best.” 

That’s so,” agreed Dolly. But what 
can you advertise a minister for? ” 

Nothing, but weddings and funerals, 
and preaching,” said Ted gloomily. But I 
guess we can do it. You’d better all help 
this out.” 

So the entire company, assisting with 
suggestions, composed the following no- 
tice: 

Mr. Allen is the Methodist minister and 
the only one of any kind in Methley so if you 
want good sermons you must go to him he 
marries everybody the best it can be done 
170 


THE SUN AND MOON’S RISING 

and if you want a very nice funeral call to 
him.’’ 

That’s all there’s room to put in,” an- 
nounced Ted and Dolly, holding up the 
paper, which was made up of four pages, 
printed very nicely on its first page, but get- 
ting queer and straggling in its letters on 
the last two. 

We promised Miss Tabitha a corner for 
animals!” cried Dolly, horrified at having 
forgotten a pledge to a subscriber. 

Oh, dear; then we’ve got to take an- 
other sheet of paper, and only look what 
a job it is to copy — Say, we’ll have to 
make this a monthly, maybe!” said Ted, 
looking around shamefacedly at his asso- 
ciates. 

^^No, we won’t; we said weekly, and 
we’ve got to have it,” cried Spartan Dolly. 

What’ll we put in the animal part?” 
asked Ethel. 

This one time I’ll tell you what we’ll 
do,” cried Tony, with an inspiration. We’ll 
pin in the extra sheet, and say in it that next 
171 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

week the animal corner is to be here, but we 
had so much to do we couldn’t begin it in 
the first number. And by next week maybe 
we’ll think of something.” 

Yes, but I know what’s better’n that! ” 
cried Dolly eagerly. We’ll just leave our 
page, and say what you say, but we’ll paste 
on it a lovely verse I’ve got — no, we’ll copy 
it, ’cause I’ve got to keep it. It’s about not 
going away in the summer and turning your 
pets out into the street — it’s awful nice! 
And we’ll say: ^ Copied from another paper,’ 
or something like that.” 

“ That’ll do, Dolly,” said her twin with an 
air of relief. Then we’re done, only copy- 
ing this all over — phew ! ” 

I didn’t s’pose it would be so much 
bother,” said Ethel, but Bess said cheer- 
fully: 

The twins don’t mind ’cause they’re so 
bright — they’ll be famouser than Charles 
Dickens some day.” 

Oh, I don’t know,” said Ted modestly. 

Well, it looks nice, don’t it? ” And he 
172 


THE SUN AND MOON’S RISING 

turned the new paper every way to survey 
it in all possible lights. 

That’s the very first number of The Sun 
and Moon. If it got to be a big paper, and 
came out every day, we’d be int’rested some 
time to see this number, Teddy. Let’s be 
sure to keep one for us, if we have to make 
three of this one,” said Dolly, full of confi- 
dence in the future. 

Well, I don’t know,” said Ted again, 
shaking his aching wrist. I’d like to have 
it, all right, but I guess maybe we can get 
one of these two back when all the suscri- 
bers have read it.” 


173 


CHAPTER XII 

REAL GLORY 

The second copy of The Sun and Moon 
was made, and the editors, on whom fell all 
the responsibility of the office, were going to 
deliver the new paper. 

It had been read in the homes of the pub- 
lishers first, because that did not count, but 
of outside subscribers Seth was promised 
the first reading of one copy, and it was diffi- 
cult to decide who was to have the other 
copy first. Dolly and Lily were anxious it 
should be the doctor, Ted and Ethel inclined 
to the squire, while Tony loyally supported 
the minister’s claim, and Bess upheld Tony’s 
opinion. So there was nothing to do but 
draw lots, and the squire won. 

You take it to him,” said Ted. 

174 


Dolly 


REAL GLORY 


and I are going to Seth’s, and it’s fair for 
you to do some of the carrying.” 

“ We’re willing to,” said Tony. But 
I’d rather go anywhere than the squire’s, 
’nless he gets his parlor papered brighter, 
and isn’t so cranky.” 

My goodness, don’t go in!” said Ted. 
Then you needn’t care ’bout the paper, and 
you won’t see him, ’tisn’t likely, and most of 
all he’s not cranky — that’s his way of having 
fun.” 

I’ll go,” said Bess unexpectedly — 
Ethel and I. I don’t think he’s cranky 
either.” 

So Ted and Dolly parted from the others, 
and got their hats to go, for the first time, 
to find Seth in his own domain. 

Seth lived quite away even from the 
thinly scattered houses which constituted 
Methley. This was as it should be, for the 
children had never entirely lost their first 
impression of Seth as some one set apart 
from common humanity. The house was a 
tiny one; it held but three rooms, and a 
175 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

rambling shed-like addition at the rear. It 
had never been painted, and wind and 
weather had tinted it a soft gray that made 
it blend with its green background of trees 
like a lichen. 

Four cats lay sunning themselves in its 
— well, not its front yard, because it had no 
yard fenced off from the woods adjoining, 
but in the little grass-grown cleared spot in 
front of it that would have been a yard for 
a common house. 

Some one was moving about inside, and 
the twins rejoiced that they had found Seth 
at home, for the statement which they had 
made in The Sun and Moon that he was al- 
most always in the woods ” was strictly 
true. 

Seth, Seth!” called Ted and Dolly in 
their usual duet, and Seth appeared in the 
doorway, smiling and very much surprised. 

<< WeVe brought you The Sun and Moon 
first, as we said we would,” cried Ted, leap- 
ing on Seth, and twining his legs around him 
like an affectionate morning glory. 

176 


REAL GLORY 


And we^ve advertised you — such a nice 
one! Just look! ” added Dolly, swinging on 
Seth’s arm. 

“ Come in, dear Twinsies, as your aunt 
calls you,” said Seth, leading the way. As 
Dolly has come, and I have very few young 
ladies come to see me, I suppose I ought to 
take you into my sitting-room, but the 
kitchen is far nicer.” 

“ Kitchens always are nicer,” said Dolly, 
turning toward the sweet odors which in- 
dicated the room where some sort of work 
was going on. 

“ Mine especially, because I made it as 
big as I could, and my bedroom and sitting- 
room as small as possible,” said Seth. 

“Did you make this house?” asked Ted, 
looking around the kitchen with admiring 
eyes. 

“ Built it with my own hands,” said Seth, 
and this surprised Ted and Dolly beyond 
words, for Ted had only meant to ask if it 
had been made especially for Seth, and 
never dreamed that he had built it. 

177 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 


No wonder you could make Baby Bunt- 
ing^s house so nice!’^ said Ted. 

How is the rabbit orphan?’’ asked 

Seth. 

Getting as big as anything, and awfully 
nice,” said Dolly. He comes plump, plump 
after me — Ted too — when we let him out, 
and he’s as tame! But isn’t this the very 
best kitchen you ever saw, Teddy? What 
smells so nice, Seth? ” 

All sorts of herbs drying, and three or 
four extracts I’m making at the same time. 
See there? ” And Seth pointed to large 
jars in which dried leaves lay at the bottom 
under liquor, and to another with its mouth 
covered with a thick, soft grayish paper, 
through which a golden liquid dropped, one 
drop at a time. 

Come and see my garden,” said Seth, 
going out through a rear door. It was a 
garden wholly unlike any the children had 
ever seen. Near the door grew flowers, and, 
though it was not late in July, they were 
laden with bloom. It looked as though Seth 
178 


REAL GLORY 


could not lend them much space, and had 
coaxed them into giving him all that they 
possibly could in return for loving care and 
for ground that he could ill spare them. 
For, crowding up to the flowers, and filling 
the garden to its lower end, grew orderly 
herbs, marjoram, thyme, sage, savory, and 
any number of others, marshaled into rows, 
and faithfully stretching up toward the sun 
to furnish Seth with all the leaves he needed 
from them. So the air was fragrant with 
the strong herbs^ odors, blowing over and 
mingling with the delicious mignonette, 
alyssum, sweet peas, and all the other old- 
fashioned flowers massed against the gray 
of the tiny house. 

^^What a nice garden!” cried Dolly, not 
knowing why it struck her as so peaceful, so 
set apart, so like a haunting poem. 

It is a nice garden,” said Seth. “ And 
iFs a most useful garden. And it has the 
greatest quantity of ladybugs in it! They 
never ^ fly away home,’ unless this is their 
home, and I sometimes suspect they have 
179 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

rented my garden — after all they pay rent, 
in one way or another.’^ 

“ We^d like to have you look at the 
paper,’’ hinted Ted, not that he loved gar- 
dens less, but that at this time he loved The 
Sun and Moon more than any other earthly 
interest. 

Well, I rather think I will! ” exclaimed 
Seth, so heartily that Ted could not but be 
gratified. “ Why, I am only keeping that 
till the last, because it is the best, and be- 
cause I don’t want to be disturbed while I 
am reading it. Come around to the front; I 
have made a seat there at the edge of the 
woods, where the shivery little birches be- 
gin, and there I’ll read my paper while you 
see my cat family, and how pretty my 
grounds are — they stretch out into thicker 
woods for two miles, and I am as free as 
Prince Pipsissewa was before he was en- 
chanted.” 

“ We ought to leave the paper, don’t you 
think so? No one who takes a paper reads 
it right through while the man bringing it 
180 


REAL GLORY 


waits,” said Ted doubtfully, though he did 
ache to see Seth’s face as he read the fruit 
of their brains and labor. 

“ Oh, well; I think this is one of the cases 
which circumstances alter,” said Seth seri- 
ously. It isn’t often that the editor deliv- 
ers his own paper, but when he brings his 
first copy, with his own hands, to a personal 
friend, it seems to me natural for that friend 
to read it without losing a moment.” Seth 
took the children around the house as he 
spoke, and they trotted beside him quite con- 
vinced that Seth was right about the paper, 
and glad to be thus convinced. 

On the bench under the quivering birches 
Seth sat himself down to read The Sun and 
Moon, and the twins climbed up, one on each 
side of him, to look over his arms, and enjoy 
their own contributions from a fresh point 
of view — the pleasure of a new reader. 
Seth read with the most admirable gravity, 
until he got to the advertisements — his 
own, with the doctor’s, lawyer’s and — not 
Indian chief,” but the minister’s. Then he 
13 181 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 


was taken Tvith such a violent cough that 
Dolly was frightened; the paper shook in his 
hand more than the birch leaves above them 
were shaking. The choking grew so very 
severe that Seth made a gesture of apology, 
and went into the house, while the twins 
anxiously discussed how fast rapid con- 
sumption might be, and whether there was 
any chance of Seth’s being carried off then 
and there. 

But he came back quite restored, except 
for a twitching around his lips, and took his 
place between Ted and Dolly on the bench to 
finish his reading. 

It is really a very fine paper,” said Seth 
at last. I shall enjoy it greatly; count the 
days from week to week between its appear- 
ances.” 

We want it to grow bigger, and pub- 
lish it every day,” said Ted, with an easy air 
of experience, suggesting nothing less than 
years spent on what is known as “ News- 
paper Bow ” in New York. “ Do you think 
it can? ” 


182 


REAL GLORY 


I think it may,’’ said Seth, with the 
slightest possible emphasis on the may. 

Nearly everything is possible. Of course 
it won’t be at once, but as you get a great 
many subscribers, and grow big yourselves, 
and perhaps have a printing-press, why, 
you can decide then about The Sun and 
Moon.” 

“ Well, there’s no use talking, it’s an aw- 
ful job now,” sighed Ted, unwinding his legs 
which he had twisted by putting one foot 
around the other ankle, after the legs were 
crossed. You see, the Rowleys can’t do 
much, and Dolly and I have to work like 
everything. Of course we’re going to keep 
it up,” he added hastily. 

Oh, yes,” Dolly chimed in, getting 
down to pet Seth’s cats. They’re lovely, 
Seth, but I couldn’t love them like Billy and 
Pukka Boy, nor Lady Mew either, though 
she’s not my favorite.” 

You ought not to love them as well; 
the others are yours, and love you better 
than mine do,” smiled Seth. 

183 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

“ We must get home/’ said Ted. Are 
you coming soon? ” 

Yes, indeed. And thank you very much 
for letting me see the paper first. I appreci- 
ate it, and I feel that The Sun and Moon will 
greatly brighten my life,” said dear Seth, 
without the slightest suspicion that he was 
turning into a prophet. 

‘^Good-by, then; I wish you’d walk part 
way,” said Dolly, getting up from her 
knees. 

I would if I hadn’t all my herbs brew- 
ing, like a witch,” said Seth. Another 
day! I mean to have a picnic — not more 
than seven people invited — can you guess 
who they are? ” 

“Us. Us and the Eowleys and Ethel and 
Lily! ” cried the twins, jumping about so 
wildly that all four cats hastily withdrew 
underneath the steps, where they would be 
safer if these children who lost their senses 
so suddenly should never get them back 
again. 

“ Not a bad guess,” said Seth, “ though 
184 


REAL GLORY 

not exactly a grammatical one. I am not 
sure when I shall have this party, but I am 
perfectly certain that I shall have it before 
the summer is over.’’ 

Good-by, good-by, you dear, dearest, 
dearestestest Seth!” cried Dolly, walking 
away in a trance of rapture. 

The twins burst into the house by the 
side door, and were running through to find 
their aunt in the library, when they heard 
the sound of a man’s voice, and Aunt Anna’s 
merry laugh as it ceased. 

She’s got company,” whispered Dolly, 
and I’m ’most sure our hands and faces are 
not nice. We can’t go in till we’ve washed 
’em. Let’s listen, and find out who it is.” 

“ The little girls next door brought it,” 
the guest was saying. I was just going 
out, but I stopped to read it — it is not a 
large sheet, and didn’t take long; I assure 
you it was well worth the time invested.” 

It’s the squire, and he’s talking about 
The Sun and Moon,” whispered Ted, while 
Dolly pinched him much harder than she had 
185 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

intended in the excitement of making the 
same discovery at the same moment. 

The advertisements alone are well 
worth the subscription, multiplied by at 
least eight — perhaps not for the actual re- 
turns they will bring, but as monuments of 
sincerity,’’ the squire continued, and the 
twins wondered how those advertisements 
could ever serve as monuments. “ I have 
sent my copy on to the doctor — I told the lit- 
tle girls I would do so — but after they have 
circulated the paper among all their sub- 
scribers I want a copy to send to my brother 
in Denver. He is particularly fond of chil- 
dren, and studies them — he writes very 
charming child stories. So, if I may, I 
should like to mail him The Sun and Moon; 
he would enjoy it even more than I do.” 

Ted and Dolly pinched each other again 
to make sure that they were wide awake. 
Suddenly fame and glory were at their feet, 
yet crowning them. The Sun and Moon to 
be sent to Denver! — they didn’t know where 
that was, but surely somewhere far away. 

186 


REAL GLORY 


And sent to the squire^s brother! — the 
squire’s brother must be learned too. But 
if there were any doubt of this point Squire 
White had just said that he was a writer — 
wrote child stories — maybe published them, 
in print, books for aught any one could tell! 
Ted and Dolly fairly trembled. Let’s 
crawl through the hedge,” said Ted, in a 
solemn whisper, not deeming it necessary to 
express his destination more plainly. We 
ought not to let the others be without know- 
ing it a minute — ’tisn’t fair!” 

So without waiting to hear what Aunt 
Anna would reply to this great honor done 
her family — and her darlings — Ted and 
Dolly ran out of the house again, and 
crawled through the hedge in search of their 
neighbors and associate publishers. 

The Rowleys and little Howell girls were 
just about to sit down to luncheon, but Mrs. 
Rowley excused them when she heard that 
the twins had something to tell them which 
could not wait a moment. 

“ Say, Tony,” Ted began, trying to keep 
187 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

his voice steady, and buttonholing Tony in 
a fashion copied after his father’s manner 
to his friends, say, Tony, Dolly and I came 
back from Seth’s, you know, and the squire’s 
at Aunt Anna’s. We heard him talking, 
and say, what do you s’pose? He said The 
Sun and Moon was all right — I don’t know 
what he said, just, but he said the advertise- 
ments were worth the price — more’n worth 
it. He said they could be put on monu- 
ments — I don’t know what he meant, but 
that’s what he said; something like that. 
But he wants a copy of the paper when 
everybody’s read it to send to Denver to his 
brother, it’s so good, and his brother’s a 
writer — writes stories, he said. Say, what 
do you think? ” 

Tony gasped. Gracious! You don’t 
think he was making fun? — you know he’s 
queer that way,” he suggested. 

^^Fun! What, of Aunt Anna? Well, I 
guess not! ” cried Ted. “ He wasn’t talking 
to us, you know. No, sir; he meant it, right 
down to the ground.” 

188 


REAL GLORY 


Dolly and Ethel and Lily were hugging 
one another, speechless with delight. 

Is Denver far? ” asked Bess. “ Is it in 
America? ” 

“Yes, it’s far; I don’t know where it is, 
but it’s in America, ’cause mama’s friend 
went there once, and it wasn’t ’cross the 
ocean,” said Dolly. 

“ And they’ll read your story and your 
poem ’way off there!” exclaimed Ethel, 
deeply impressed. “ Say, Dolly, doesn’t that 
make you famous? ” 

“ I guess it does,” said Dolly, with the 
gravity so great a thought called forth. 
“ It’s kinder awful, isn’t it? Ted, we’ve got 
to go home; Tony’s lunch’s ready, and ours 
must be, pretty near. We thought we ought 
to tell you right away ’bout the paper,” she 
added, to her neighbors. 

“ Well, I should say so! ” cried Ethel, and 
Tony added: “If he really does send the 
paper to Denver we ought to be pretty 
proud, but I think maybe he’s fooling.” 

But the squire was in serious earnest, as 
189 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

the children soon discovered. It did not 
take many days for all their fifteen sub- 
scribers to read The Sun and Moon, and just 
as soon as one copy was free for him to 
claim, the squire wrapped it carefully, and 
addressed it in his fine, detached hand to the 
brother who wrote child stories, far away in 
distant Denver. Then he dropped the little 
paper into Methley’s post-office, in the cor- 
ner of the grocery store, whence it speeded 
away to carry a message of which its sender 
and editors never dreamed. 


190 


CHAPTER XIII 


THE SUN AND MOON’S SETTING 

Ted was mopping his brow, and crossing 
and uncrossing his legs with the fidgetiness 
of extreme physical discomfort. Dolly’s 
blue dimity gown was round-necked and her 
sleeves short, yet her cheeks were flushed, 
her hair lay damp around her forehead, and 
her dimpled arms were mottled with the 
heat, for there had been several days when 
the thermometer had climbed away up, al- 
most out of the nineties, and had stayed 
there, like a cat in a tree with a dog below 
barking at it, and Methley was suffering. 

In all this dreadful weather the twins 
and Bess were laboring on The Sun and 
Moon, resolved to get out its second issue at 
all costs. Tony had gone swimming in the 
191 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

river with bigger boys, Ethel refused flatly 
to have anything to do with the paper 
until it was cooler, Lily was ailing, so the 
twins and Bess alone stood to their post 
like scorching little Casabiancas, strug- 
gling to fulfll their obligations to their sub- 
scribers. 

I can’t — I can not think of a single 
thing to write a story about,” said Dolly, 
disconsolately. I’ve written down Once 
Upon a Time, and some other things like 
that, the way stories begin, but it doesn’t 
do one speck of good. Do you s’pose it 
would be very awful not to have a story this 
week — just write something in the story cor- 
ner saying we hadn’t a story, or something 
like that? ” 

I shouldn’t think any one’d care if they 
didn’t have to read one when it’s so hot,” 
said Bess, with a foretaste of older people’s 
weariness of the making of many books. 

Do you think — would it be any harm — 
how’d it do?” stammered Ted, and then 
stopped short. 


192 


THE SUN AND MOON’S SETTING 

What’s the matter, Teddy? ” asked 
Dolly. What are you trying to say?” 

How’d it do not to have any paper at all 
this week? ” said Ted, getting redder as he 
spoke, but blurting out his suggestion at 
last. I’ve been thinking maybe we’d bet- 
ter have The Sun and Moon a monthly, any 
way through the hot weather.” 

Why, this is July, and if we had it a 
monthly just for the summer, we’d only get 
one month’s rest,” said Bess, betraying how 
pleasant she felt a longer rest would be. 

All the time, then,” said Ted, glad some 
one else had said more than he had. 

“ I’d like it,” said Bess decidedly. “ And 
Tony and Ethel said they’d a good mind not 
to do any more work at all on the paper. 
Tony said he’d ’bout made up his mind it 
wasn’t any fun. And if we’ve got to do it 
by ourselves, once a month’s all we can 
stand.” 

^^We couldn’t give it up — could we?” 
Dolly had begun to speak decidedly, but she 
ended with a hopeful note in her voice, for 
193 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 


she was so tired and warm that the prospect 
of being the mainstay of a paper every week 
of her life looked dreary indeed. 

‘^Not give it up, D.; only make it a 
monthly,’^ said Ted. And begin right 
now, ^cause it^s so awful hot.’’ And he be- 
gan gathering up pencils and paper with a 
liveliness of which he had not seemed capa- 
ble five minutes before. 

Such good news for you, Twinsies!” 
called Aunt Anna’s voice up the stairs, and 
Aunt Anna’s face followed it, peeping smi- 
lingly through the door. Seth has come, 
and he wants to take you and the children 
next door to a cool spot in the woods to 
lunch and spend a few hours. I’m having 
Bevis harnessed to get you there — it’s too 
warm to walk — and Mrs. Kowley and I are 
having a lunch put up. If you don’t care to 
go I can tell Fritz to unharness, so don’t 
hesitate to say so.” 

Oh, my goodness!” exclaimed Dolly, 
hurling herself at her laughing aunt, quite 
beyond further expression, and Ted dropped 
194 


THE SUN AND MOON’S SETTING 

all the pencils and paper he had so carefully 
gathered up and stood on his head, in which 
position he painfully remarked that he 
guessed there wasn’t much danger of not 
wanting to go.” 

“ Tony’ll feel dreadfully if we go and he 
doesn’t,” remarked Bess. 

Seth said he would go around by the 
swimming-hole, and pick Tony up,” said 
Aunt Anna. Come now, and get ready, 
and Bess will run over and see her mother a 
moment, and be ready to start with Ethel 
and Lily — Lily is to go; she is well enough 
for that.” 

Bess flew off in a rapture while Ted and 
Dolly ran to be made fit for such a great joy 
as Seth’s party. When they came down 
stairs old Bevis was standing at the side 
door, whisking his tail and looking around 
to see that Aunt Anna stowed away the bas- 
kets properly in the big carriage, and Trusty 
was stretching and whining, feeling pretty 
sure that he was included in Seth’s invita- 
tion, but wishing some one would hurry up 
195 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 


and say so, and set his mind entirely at rest. 
Seth was to drive, and not only the chil- 
dren’s luncheon, but Bevis’s dinner was 
stowed away under the seats, as well as his 
fly covering. Ted and Dolly clambered on 
the front seat beside Seth, and when they 
stopped at the house next door Lily was 
squeezed in with them, and Ethel and Bess 
climbed into the back seat, planning for 
Tony to join them. Trusty knew now that 
he was all right, for he had been strongly 
urged to be one of the party, though the 
merest invitation was all he had asked. He 
now sat wagging his tail violently, his red 
tongue lolling over his black lip, for it was 
warm enough to make him pant even in the 
few feet between the two houses, but Trusty 
was a person who did not mind discomfort 
of the body, provided his mind was at rest — 
and he loved to run before, and behind, and 
at all sides of Bevis. 

Methley roads were shady, and Bevis 
jogged along just fast enough to give his 
freight a little breeze; it was most pleasant 
196 


THE SUN AND MOON’S SETTING 
creaking slowly under the arching limbs of 
the trees, and pale little Lily began to revive 
under the joy of it all. 

The party met the big boys coming up 
with Tony from the swimming-hole, and 
Tony gave a wild whoop when he heard the 
good news that he was to be taken on a sort 
of picnic; he wasted no time on his older 
companions, but jumped in beside his sis- 
ter and cousin as frisky as the tadpoles he 
had just been among. Then Bevis swung 
along again, and turned into a narrow 
woods road, marked heavily with the 
wagon wheels of the ice cutters who had 
passed that way in March, and thickly 
shaded by the big trees, and made fra- 
grant with sweet fern, and cool with 
bracken. 

This road widened into a mossy glade, 
and here Seth reined up Bevis and an- 
nounced the end of the journey. Bevis was 
made comfortable under a tree, his bridle 
slipped and his oats given him, and the 
others, including Trusty, turned a little 
14 197 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

farther into the opening, and waited to find 
out what was to come next. 

What shall we do first?” asked Seth, 
but he said it with a smile, as if he already 
knew the answer. 

Eat our lunch,” said all the children 
without a moment^s hesitation, though it 
was not yet lunch-time. 

Seth laughed his quiet laugh, but obedi- 
ently began to open the baskets which had 
been set in a row, and did give out odors 
that made waiting to see their contents 
pretty hard. They took out bread and but- 
ter, cold meat, pies, cakes, lemonade, milk, 
a bottle of cold coffee for Seth, doughnuts, 
even a box of candy — the children shouted 
as they discovered these things, and Trusty 
barked frantically. 

Bread and butter and meat first,” said 
Seth firmly as Tony reached for a fat dough- 
nut. The one who eats most of these 
things can have all he wants of sweets, and 
the others must be satisfied with only all 
that they can eat of them.” 

198 


THE SUN AND MOON’S SETTING 

Dolly and Ted made their funny little 
wriggle of delight as Seth said this. They 
always wriggled when they were pleased, 
and fully appreciated Seth’s quiet nonsense. 

For a while conversation languished 
while young teeth, as sharp as squirrels’, 
made half moons, that immediately set, 
out of big slices of bread and butter, and 
when they had done their duty in that di- 
rection fell with new energy on the sweet 
things. 

The luncheon looked, when they sat 
down, like a provision for a crowd; in a few 
moments the mossy rock-table looked like 
Mother Hubbard’s cupboard — only that 
Trusty was licking his chops in a way that 
indicated that something more than a bone 
had been found. 

Now we must play fair, and all help 
wash the dishes in the spring — I’ll show you 
the spring,” said Seth. And after we’ve 
played fair we’ll try to play fairly — fairly 
well, you know. And we must take the pail 
and bring Bevis a long drink of cool water.” 

199 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 


“ Let me give it to him/’ begged Ted. 

He knows me, and I love to.” 

So the procession to the spring formed, 
and the dishes were soon washed — Aunt 
Anna had seen to it that there were but 
few, for she knew little fingers had no ob- 
jection to play the part they had played 
when Cain and Abel went picnicking, and to 
take the place of forks. Bevis had his drink, 
which Ted gave him, patting his neck and 
pulling his forelock while the good old horse 
sucked up the spring water in delighted 
long breaths, and then blew bubbles as he 
cooled his nose in what was left. 

What’ll we play? ” asked Ethel, when, 
duties done and the dishes put back in the 
baskets, the children gathered around Seth 
on the moss, ready to be entertained. 

“ First of all let’s play something that is 
a sitting-down play, because it is so warm, 
and we’ve had so very much luncheon,” said 
Seth. Suppose we play that there’s a fairy 
right above our heads, sitting on the lower 
branch of this tree, and this fairy will grant 
200 


THE SUN AND MOON’S SETTING 

our wishes — just one wish to each of us. 
Let’s all think hard, and make a wish for 
what we want most — aloud, you know — and 
if we are the sort of folk fairy folk love she 
will give us what we want, but if we’re not, 
we shall not get our wish. We must think 
hard, remember, and say slowly and clearly: 
^ What I wish for most is ’ — and then we 
each say what it is. Do you think that 
would be a nice game? ” 

“ Very nice,” said Dolly soberly. “ But, 
could it be true, Seth? Might we get our 
wishes? There couldn’t be a fairy.” Dol- 
ly’s voice was wistful, as though she longed 
to be told the fairy was really there. 

S’h, Dolly,” whispered Seth, laying his 
finger on his lip. She might hear you, and 
be offended, then you, at least, would not get 
your wish. As to fairies, dearie, everything 
that we love and find beautiful is true in one 
way or another, and when you are old 
enough you will understand this, because 
you love beauty and are one that the fairies 
love. So make your wishes, children, only 
201 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

be careful that they are your real wishes, 
and we shall know whom the fairies love 
most of us, for only those will have their 
wishes granted.’’ 

The little group looked solemn over this 
wonderful play; it hardly seemed like a play. 
Tony dug holes in the moss as he lay 
stretched out at full length at Seth’s feet. 
Ethel threw acorn cups at Lily, who was 
collecting them for Tony to make a doll’s 
tea-set of them — he said that he could do it. 
Ted lay flat on his back staring into the sky; 
Bess pleated her skirt into folds, consider- 
ing hard, and Dolly leaned against Seth’s 
shoulder, trying to curl the ends of his hair 
over her little Anger. 

Who’s flrst? ” asked Tony. I’m 
ready.” 

‘^You might be,” said Seth, you or 
Ethel, because you are the oldest. I must 
be last because I’m the biggest.” 

Only Ted and Dolly giggled a little at 
this reasoning, and Tony, nothing loath, sat 
up straight to announce his heart’s desire. 

202 


THE SUN AND MOON’S SETTING 

What I wish for most is a pony,” he said, 
loud and clear. Then he lay down again, 
leaving it to the fairy to attend to it. 

Next. Ethel,” said Seth. 

What I wish for most is to have a bi- 
cycle and learn to ride,” said Ethel. 

Ted and Dolly, you’re the same age; 
what shall we do about that? ” asked Seth. 

Let Dolly and Lily tell; I don’t want 
to,” said Ted, blushing furiously. 

Oh, you must, if we all do,” cried Dolly. 

We’ll let Ted be the last, then he won’t 
mind. What can you want that is so hard 
to say, Teddy? ” said Seth. 

Ted fidgeted, and looked so embarrassed 
that Dolly, obedient to Seth’s signal, said: 

What I wish for most is that mama would 
come soon.” 

What I wish for most,” said Lily, look- 
ing up into the tree to see if the fairy really 
were listening, is a perfectly beautiful doll 
carriage and cradle for my Baby Blossom.” 

“Will you be next, Seth? I know you’ll 
get yours, ’cause the fairies love you better’n 
203 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

anybody in the world/’ whispered Dolly in 
his ear. 

I’ll be next,” said Seth, but I’m afraid 
I shall never get my wish. Still, we must 
be perfectly truthful, so here goes: What I 
wish for most is never again to have to think 
of money. Now, Teddy, we’ve all told, but 
you. Do you mind wishing? ” 

I hate to, but I s’pose ’tisn’t fair not 
to,” said Ted. There’s lots of things I’d 
like, but if we must be perfectly truthful — 
well! What I wish for most is to give up 
publishing The Sun and Moon.” Ted’s voice 
sank as he spoke, and his face was crimson. 
It seemed so mean to be the first to tire of 
the paper — after but one issue, too, and he 
the founder and the most enthusiastic of its 
staff! But he was tired, dead tired of the 
idea, and truth compelled him to say so. 

A surprised silence greeted his wish, 
then a shout of pleasure from all but Dolly 
and Lily, the latter because she had nothing 
to do with the paper, as the others had, the 
former because she was shocked, yet ex- 
204 


THE SUN AND MOON’S SETTING 

cited by the sudden knowledge that she 
wished precisely what her twin did, but had 
not known it until that moment. 

Why, Teddy,’’ said Seth, if you want 
to give up The Sun and Moon you ought to 
do it. A great many people start in busi- 
ness, and then give it up. I am sure your 
subscribers will be ready to let you off.” 

Well, if I’m not glad you feel that way, 
Ted!” cried Tony. It’s the biggest nui- 
sance! And you can’t keep it up, you and 
Dolly, to save your life. I don’t see the fun 
of working in vacation.” 

We’re tired of it, Bess and I — we said 
so ’most right away,” added Ethel. Just 
drop it. Maybe you’ll get a printing-press 
next Christmas, then there’d be some sense 
in having a paper, and we might do it next 
summer.” 

Well, I must say,” said Dolly slowly 
and reluctantly, I didn’t know I was so 
tired of it as I felt the minute Ted said that, 
but if we could give it up ’thout being too 
mean, I’d be awfully glad.” 

205 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

“ Give it up, by all means,’’ said Seth. 
You see it’s unanimous. We’ll put up a 
stone here in the moss to mark the spot 
where The Sun and Moon died — set, I sup- 
pose we ought to say. Tony, find us a stone, 
will you? Ted, you help him.” 

Ted arose, a mingled expression of relief 
and shame on his face. ‘‘ Well,” he sighed, 
if we can stop, I’m sure I’m glad enough.” 

You see, there was a fairy,” said Seth, 
and she must love Teddy, because he got 
his wish the moment he uttered it.” 

Tony and Ted brought a stone — a smooth 
stone — and Seth wrote on it with a pencil: 

On this spot set The Sun and Moon, having 
shone gloriously for one issue,” and placed 
the stone upright in the moss, flanking it 
with many little stones to keep it from fall- 
ing when the winter storms should come. 

Now, children, I’m sorry to say it, but 
there’s a thunder-storm coming up from the 
west, and we must start homeward, or old 
Bevis won’t be able to save us from a wet- 
ting. We couldn’t have stayed much longer 
206 


THE SUN AND MOON’S SETTING 

in any case, and it’s been pleasant, hasn’t 
it?” 

Very,” said Ethel discontentedly. “But 
I thought we could stay till supper-time.” 

“ But you don’t want to when it’s going 
to thunder, do you?” cried Dolly, jumping 
to her feet quickly. “ There, just hear that! 
Oh, hurry, Seth!” A distant rumble rolled 
up from the west, and nervous little Dolly 
had no desire to picnic in a thunder-storm. 

“ We shall get home, Dolly, if we start 
at once,” said Seth. “ Come, children. 
Tony, put the baskets in. Ted, help me with 
Bevis’s bridle. Pile in, lassies; now, we’re 
off. All ready. Trusty boy. Home, Bevis.” 
Shaking the reins, Seth woke up dreamy 
Bevis, and the carriage bowled down the 
shady road more rapidly than it had come, 
for the thunder rolled more frequently, and 
the sky was growing dark, and Bevis said to 
himself that trotting was better than a wet- 
ting, when a horse was growing old, and 
might have rheumatism. 


207 


CHAPTER XIV 

FINANCIAL DIFFICULTIES 

May Tony and Bess and Ethel and Lily 
go down to the mail with us?’^ asked Ted, 
standing, hat in hand, on Mrs. Rowley’s 
steps. 

Not Lily; it’s too far for her to walk, 
but the other three may if they like,” said 
Mrs. Rowley, and, as they did like, the five 
children were soon trudging down the dusty 
road, which seemed to have forgotten all 
about last night’s showers. 

If we hadn’t used that suscription 
money! ” said Ted suddenly. What’d you 
s’pose made us divvy up the very first 
thing? ” 

Yes, ’cause we’ve been thinking, Ted 
and I,” said Dolly. If we give up the 
208 


FINANCIAL DIFFICULTIES 

paper we have to give that money back, 
’cause it was for the paper, and so 
’tisn’t ours, and we haven’t all of it, have 
we? ” 

I haven’t a cent of it; neither has Bess. 
I got her to put ours together and buy a 
little garden hose of our own, ’cause our 
man won’t let us have his,” said Tony 
promptly. But I don’t know what you 
mean.” 

<< Why, I mean we owe all that money — 
all w'e haven’t got to return — to the people 
that gave it to us for The Sun and Moon for 
a year — else we’ve got to keep up the paper. 
Don’t you see?” cried Ted impatiently. 

’Tisn’t ours, ’cause they gave it to us to get 
something, and if we don’t give ’em that 
thing, they’ve got to get their money back. 
’Twould be stealing not to. Now, how 
much’ve we got to return? ” 

“ I’ve kept mine,” said Dolly. “ I meant 
to buy a doll’s trunk with it when we get 
home. We’ll give that back.” 

We haven’t ours,” repeated Tony. 

209 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

How much was it? I forget/’ said 
Ethel, and the twins felt sure she was not 
hopeful, if she did not even know how much 
she had had. 

“ We got three dollars and seventy-five 
cents for suscriptions,” said Ted, in a mel- 
ancholy but decided voice. We spent five 
cents for ink, and ten cents for that big 
white wrapping paper to cut up in sheets, 
’cause it was cheaper than writing paper, 
and three cents for pencils, and that makes 
eighteen cents. So we had sixty cents each, 
except me, and I said I’d take the seven 
cents, ’cause I didn’t care, so now I’ll keep 
the pencils to make it fair — we had three 
dollars and fifty-seven cents, after we 
bought the things for the paper. Now, 
what’ll we do if we owe all that?” 

I haven’t mine,” said Ethel. “ I don’t 
know what I did with it, only buy candy at 
the store and a rubber ball. I shouldn’t 
wonder if Lily had hers, ’cause I heard her 
say she guessed she’d keep it to send some 
little girl in the Philippines to school. She 
210 


FINANCIAL DIFFICULTIES 

heard somebody talking about something, 
and she’s always like that. I s’pose she’d 
give you hers if she knew she ought to, but 
it’s dreadfully hard to make Lily see any- 
thing but what she’s got into her head.” 

Well, there’s mine certain sure, but will 
that do much? No, I know it can’t,” sighed 
Dolly. 

That would give two people back their 
money and ten cents over,” said Bess. 

Say, isn’t this dreadful? I thought only 
horrid people couldn’t pay what they owed.” 

Of course it’s dreadful; it’s disgrace, 
that’s what it is — I know, I’ve often heard 
papa talk,” said Ted, with tragic earnest- 
ness. But we’ve got to pay, that’s all, 
some way. I’ve got fifty cents that I’ve had 
ever since I came here; mama gave it to me, 
and I’ll put that in.” He did not ask sacri- 
fices of the other children, but he hoped they 
would offer to help. Bess was a comfort; 
she seemed to see things as the Tarletons 
did. “ I’ve a quarter,” she said. I’ll put 
that in.” 


211 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

“Well, I^ve a little money, but it’s my 
own, and the paper wasn’t much mine, so I 
guess I’ll keep it,” said Tony. 

“ I don’t believe I’d like to pay my 
money to all those folks if I had any, but 
I haven’t; I never have any money,” said 
Ethel. 

“ Then we can give five suscribers their 
money back,” said Ted, swallowing his feel- 
ings. “ We’ll have ten cents over after that. 
I guess we’d better give it first to Miss Tabi- 
tha, ’cause she looks poor, and those three 
funny old sisters, and Seth. Now, what’ll 
we do ’bout the rest? The squire might do 
something to us — he’s judge.” 

“ Oh, he won’t care; we might tell ’em all 
we’d give ’em the money when we got it, and 
they won’t say anything to us, ’cause we’re 
children,” said Tony easily. 

Ted stopped short with such a stamp of 
his foot in the dust that a cloud rose around 
the little group. “ Tony Kowley,” he said 
fiercely, “ if we’re big enough to get up a 
paper we’re big enough to be honest, and if 
212 


FINANCIAL DIFFICULTIES 

you think I’ll keep that money — why, I’d 
just’s soon do anything, anything! I guess 
I won’t have the Methley people say the 
Tarleton twins came begging, and didn’t 
even say so! That money’s got to be got! 
Dolly and I can’t do that paper all alone, 
and so we’ve got to drop it, and I think it’s 
pretty funny if you don’t stand by us.” 

There was a tremor in Ted’s voice that 
sounded not far from crying, and he winked 
hard as he resumed his way, kicking up a 
cloud of dust as he went. 

I’ll stand by you,” said Tony good- 
naturedly; he could not see what Ted and 
Dolly were so upset about. I guess we 
can pay it back — maybe my father’n yours 
will when they come.” 

“Oh, we w^ouldn’t like that!” cried 
Dolly. “ That’s what we were talking about, 
too. We never have secrets, but we 
wouldn’t dare tell Aunt Anna and mama 
and papa ’bout this for fear they’d give us 
the money, and we think we ought to do it 

ourselves.” 

15 


213 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 


Oh, my gracious!’’ exclaimed Tony, ut- 
terly at sea at this remark. “ Why, what’s 
the difference? Let ’em pay it; they’re our 
fathers.” 

The children took the mail which the 
postmaster’s wife handed them through the 
little window with the wooden bars; her 
husband was showing a girl in a lavender 
muslin some pink artificial roses, while his 
boy was filling her kerosene can. 

Among the letters was one which Dolly 
insisted on carrying, held close against her 
breast with both hands. It’s from mama,” 
she said, for Aunt Anna, and I like to hold 
it, ’cause I like to hold her tight.” 

It was rather a solemn party that toiled 
up the road again through the dust. Ted 
was weighted with the sense of dishonor 
and failure, and the consciousness that no 
one but Dolly and Bess felt it as he did, 
while Tony and Ethel and Bess could not 
be merry while Ted and Dolly were so 
dismal. 

It was a great surprise, therefore, after 
214 


financial difficulties 

they had parted from them at their own 
gate to see the twins scrambling through 
the hedge in the wildest delight not ten 
minutes later, screaming something at the 
tops of their voices which nobody could un- 
derstand, beyond that it was something in 
which mama and papa ’’ figured largely. 

Dolly ran to Bess and seized her around 
the waist, laughing and choking like a crazy 
child. “ What you s^pose that letter says? 
she screamed. “ What you s’pose? 

“ I don’t know,” gasped Bess, for Dolly 
held her so tight she could hardly speak. 

“ There was a fairy — I honestly believe 
there was,” said Dolly. Ted got his wish 
right there, and now I’ve got mine! Mama 
says it’s so dreadfully, fearfully hot in town 
she’s been a little bit sick, and she’s coming 
to Methley to-night, and papa’s going to 
bring her, and stay a week, and then come 
back for two weeks in August, same’s ever. 
Mama’s coming with him to-night, this very 
night, to-day! ” And Dolly let go of Bess to 
fiy at Ethel, and then at Lily, and spin them 
215 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

both around and around until they were all 
dizzy. 

<< WeVe got to go right back to begin to 
get ready/^ said Ted, whose face was crim- 
son and eyes shining, though he kept more 
quiet over his joy than Dolly did. 

“Come on, D.; there’s heaps to do. We 
won’t see you again till to-morrow. We’re 
going to comb Trusty and put ribbons on 
him, and sponge Billy and put ribbons on 
him, and Pukka Boy and Lady Mew, and 
we’ve got to fix up Baby Bunting’s house. 
And put all our bureau drawers in order, 
and take our baths and get dressed to go to 
the station ” 

“ What time are they coming? ” inter- 
rupted Tony. 

“ Half past eight train to-night, but 
we’re going to go to meet them; Aunt Anna 
said so. Come on, Dolly; we’ve got to work’s 
hard as we can all day.” And the twins 
skipped back to the hedge and wriggled 
through, and ran so fast over their own 
lawn that Dolly fell headlong, but was too 
216 


FINANCIAL DIFFICULTIES 

excited to know whether she was hurt or 
not, so jumped up again, and whirled into 
the house, beside herself with joy. 

Such a day as the children spent! Hav- 
ing tipped all the contents of every drawer 
in both their rooms on the floor — and Ted- 
dy^s rocks and birds’ nests and nails and 
beetle shells and like treasures made a 
queer combination with his ties and collars 
and stockings — having tipped them all out 
to clean house, for mama to And everything 
spick and span, they became dismayed at 
the prospect before them, and decided they 
must get the animals in order first, because 
they would be first seen when the carriage 
drove up. But Billy objected, as strongly 
as such a gentle creature could, to being 
sponged, and Pukka Boy would not lie still 
and be brushed till his Maltese coat shone, 
though he did need it, for his fur was rough, 
being July shedding time, but Pukka Boy 
was not the keeping-still kind of cat at best. 
And Trusty, with the most exact sense of his 
style of beauty, scorned ribbons, consider- 
217 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 


ing them fit only for little dogs, so when Ted 
and Dolly got him done up in crimson bows 
on his collar and a bow half-way down his 
splendid tail, he immediately removed the 
tail decoration with his teeth, and went out 
and rolled the others into a brown, dusty 
fiatness, varied by streaks of grass stains. 
And all these preparations were made in 
such a fiurry that in less than two hours 
after luncheon there was nothing left to be 
done, and the children were in such a state 
of mind, between weariness and impatience, 
that Aunt Anna hardly saw how she or they 
could get through the five hours before train 
time. 

But every group of hours, as every single 
hour, must pass at last, as they have since 
time began, so finally the twins found them- 
selves on the front seat of the carriage, for 
which post they had begged, to get the first 
glimpse of the dear travelers, and Bevis was 
slowly getting under way down the drive- 
way. Ted had implored Aunt Anna to use 
Koderick Dhu, but she had only laughed at 
218 


FINANCIAL DIFFICULTIES 

the idea of taking the young horse, whom 
they hardly dared trust on the quietest 
roads, to the station, and Bevis was put into 
the shafts, as he had been for many sum- 
mers, to go to fetch the Tarletons. 

It was a wonderful experience for chil- 
dren that were never allowed to sit up after 
eight, to go jogging along under the stars, 
hearing the w^hippoorwills, and smelling the 
damp evening odors! For a while Ted and 
Dolly bounced about in their seat, fidgeting 
into different positions, and pelting Fritz 
with questions. But after a while the loveli- 
ness of the night, its peacefulness, stilled 
even their throbbing little hearts, and they 
rode along quietly, until the sight of the vil- 
lage and the station set every pulse agog 
once more. 

The train was actually on time — it was 
often late, and Ted felt sure that on this 
night of nights it would not be in on time, 
but there it was, puffing around the bend, 
and ringing its bell to warn people away 
from the road that crossed the track just 
219 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

below the station. Ted and Dolly were on 
the platform — Aunt Anna could not keep a 
hand on each of Them to save her life — jump- 
ing up and down, and almost flying into inch 
pieces as the train slowed up, and the people 
began to move through the cars, past the 
windows, toward the doors. Papa and 
mama got out of the last car but one, and 
the twins had taken their stand in the mid- 
dle of the platform, to command both ends 
of the train, so they gave a wild whoop, and 
ran like deer to meet them, getting tangled 
up with a dog on a leash, and barely esca- 
ping collision with the baggage truck on the 
way. But, somehow, they reached their 
goal, and felt themselves seized in a loving 
mixture of soft fabrics and scratchy tweeds, 
and devoured with kisses, which they 
breathlessly returned. They felt, as they 
felt each summer, that though they had 
seemed to be perfectly happy before papa 
and mama came, there was really something 
wanting to their lives which they could 
measure only when the lack was supplied. 

220 


FINANCIAL DIFFICULTIES 

For until these dearest of all the world 
came, the big corner-stone of creation was, 
somehow, left out. 

Papa held Ted between his knees and 
squeezed him up tight once in a while as he 
talked with Fritz, who always seemed to 
amuse Mr. Tarleton a good deal, and the 
little boy was content to be silent, and 
feel the strong arms holding him. Dolly, 
silent too, was snuggled close to mama, 
between her and Aunt Anna in the back 
seat. Mama looked rather pale and frail; 
she was telling Aunt Anna how sick the 
heat and the city noises had made her this 
year. 

The children curled up in mama’s and 
papa’s laps out on the piazza, in the big 
rocking chairs, for a short talk and much 
cuddling, while Aunt Anna was seeing to 
supper for the travelers. The twins had 
thought that they would not tell papa about 
the paper, because they wanted to try to 
solve the problem of returning the money 
that had been paid them for subscriptions 
221 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

without any help, but — they might have 
known it! — before they had sat on the piazza 
ten minutes the story of The Sun and Moon 
had been told, and Ted was not sure that 
papa was not trying not to laugh as he 
listened, while Dolly, with her head on 
mama’s breast, certainly heard soft little 
gurgles in her throat, and they sounded like 
laughter. 

But when papa spoke it w^as quite seri- 
ously. Well, my son,” he said, I see that 
you realize that a business man must fill 
orders if they are paid in advance, and that 
you will have to make good for these paid- 
up subscriptions to your paper, unless you 
mean to continue to publish it, so there is 
nothing for me to say, except that I rather 
wonder at your going about Methley to get 
subscriptions, until you were sure you could 
bring out the paper. Did Aunt Anna 
knoTV? ” 

No, but not because it was a secret 
from her papa,” said Ted eagerly. “ She 
was busy the morning we went, and we 
222 


FINANCIAL DIFFICULTIES 

couldn’t ’splain anything, but we were going 
out ’bout the paper. We never thought 
’twas any harm.” 

Oh, I understand,” said papa. “ It was 
a mistake, that’s all. It will help you re- 
member another time to be sure that you 
can keep a promise before you make it. You 
began at the wrong end, that’s all; first 
make your paper, then get people to take it. 
Well, you will have to talk it over with me, 
and try to find a way to earn the money to 
pay back — of course, you don’t want me to 
pay your debts? ” 

No, sir, we don’t,” said Ted, so proudly 
that Mr. Tarleton couldn’t help giving him 
an approving pat. “ Dolly and I have taken 
all our money, and Lily has hers from the 
paper, so there’s five suscriptions. But I 
think Tony and the rest might help, don’t 
you? ” 

I think they must help,” said papa, 
positively. They took their share of the 
funds, so they must help pay back. We’ll 
talk of it to-morrow. To think of my find- 
223 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 


ing you, Twinsies, a ruined firm of publish- 
ers, with the funds embezzled! ” 

And Mr. Tarleton set Ted on his feet 
with what, this time, w^as a frank laugh, 
and they all four went in to see what Aunt 
Anna had good for her guests, for at that 
moment she called them to supper. 


224 


CHAPTER XV 


WHAT THE MAIL BROUGHT 

Ted and Dolly slept late the following 
morning, though they had meant to get up 
by daybreak, not to lose one moment of 
papa’s week in Methley. It w’^as eight 
o’clock when they opened their eyes, how- 
ever, and even then it was mama’s kiss that 
aroused Dolly — she knew, in her. sleep, that 
it was not Aunt Anna, and jumped to her 
knees and the delight of having her pretty 
young mother again. 

After breakfast Ted and Dolly took papa 
over the place, to show him Roderick Dhu 
first of all — he had heard the story of the 
Gipsies, and how Ted had saved the day, or 
rather the night, and Rod with it. Then he 
had to see Baby Bunting, and his fine resi- 
225 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

dence, and be told all about Seth who had 
built it, and had such marvelous pow^ers to 
win plants, dumb creatures, and children, 
and how much — how very much — the chil- 
dren loved him. He was shown the opening 
in the hedge through which the twins 
crawled, and was told that they liked their 
new neighbors, but especially Bess, and how 
Tony was pretty nice, but didn’t always see 
things just as he should. They caught a 
glimpse of the Rowley group in the distance, 
but none of them would come over to the 
hedge when Ted and Dolly beckoned them, 
for they were all a little afraid of this tall 
man, who was Ted and Dolly’s father, to be 
sure, but whom they liked better at a safe 
distance. All this exploring and explaining 
took so long that when Mr. Tarleton and 
the twins came toward the house Fritz had 
been back from the post-office and from 
doing Aunt Anna’s errands in the village 
for some time, and the doctor’s buggy was 
coming up the road. 

As it drew near, the children saw that 
226 


WHAT THE MAIL BROUGHT 

the squire sat in it beside Doctor Corbin, 
and the awe in which they stood of the tall, 
thin squire kept them from rushing to the 
gate to meet their friend the doctor, as their 
first impulse prompted them to do. 

The buggy turned in at Aunt Annans gate 
and Mr. Tarleton waved his hand boyishly 
in response to the salute his friends gave 
him; they were surprised to find him wait- 
ing them on the piazza steps. 

When did you get here, Rick? ” called 
Doctor Corbin. “Hallo, twdn children! 
How do you manage to look so cheerful with 
your father here to keep his eye on you? ’’ 

“ Very glad to see you, Tarleton,” said 
the squire, getting out of the buggy first. 
“ We count on you only for the latter Au- 
gust dog days.” The three men shook hands 
heartily. “ I came for a week, to bring Mrs. 
Tarleton up; she has been ill from the heat,” 
said Mr. Tarleton. “ This is not to inter- 
fere with a longer stay at the usual time, 
when I come to fetch my family.” 

“ Have you heard of your family’s recent 
227 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 


achievements in the publishing line? ” asked 
the doctor, with a twinkle, which both the 
squire and Mr. Tarleton seemed to share. 

Yes; they told me about it last night — 
some points I did not know,’’ said Mr. Tarle- 
ton. “ I had received a copy of The Sun and 
Moon, but I had not heard of the paid sub- 
scriptions, nor the great scale on which they 
expected to continue it.” 

Ted swallowed hard; it seemed to him 
that there never could be a better time to 
tell these subscribers of the paper’s failure. 
He did not fear the doctor; the squire looked 
more amiable than he had ever thought him 
before, and papa was there to support him — 
besides, best of all reasons, if he plunged in 
now it would be done, and off his mind. So 
he pushed between his father and the squire, 
and catching the former’s hand behind his 
back, looked straight up into the squire’s 
keen eyes. 

<< We’re awful sorry,” said poor Teddy, 
somewhat faintly, but we can’t keep that 
paper up.” 


228 


WHAT THE MAIL BROUGHT 

Can’t?” repeated the squire, looking 
down on Ted in his frightening way. Why 
not?” 

There’s no one but Dolly and me — I — 
to do it, and it’s so hot, and we can’t think 
of things to put in it, ’sides we have to print 
it all ourselves, with our pencils, and our 
wrists ache so, you can’t think! And the 
Rowleys and all got tired of it ’most before 
we started — we just had to stop it!” And 
Ted almost sobbed, for the squire’s grave 
and steady gaze was not making it easy. 

Well, that was sensible! ” said the doc- 
tor heartily. Tarleton, don’t let this old 
legal lemon-drop scare the boy so. It’s all 
right, Teddy, and I would have dropped it 
before the first number, I’ve no doubt.” 

“ Yes, but we feel bad about the money,” 
began Dolly, but Ted pushed her aside with 
a manly desire to take the whole responsi- 
bility that did his father’s heart good. 

I’m telling this, D.,” he said. “You 
hadn’t anything to do with it, ’cept voting to 
stop, and you had your share of the money 
16 229 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 


to give ’em back. What we care about,” 
Ted continued, speaking straight to the 
squire still, because he knew the doctor 
would excuse anything he did, what makes 
us awful sorry and ’shamed is the money. 
We got fifteen suscribers, and we divvied up 
the money — ’cept a little for the paper and 
pencils and ink — and most of it’s used up. 
We’ve got to earn it somehow to pay it back, 
and we dreadfully ’fraid we can’t for a 
while.” 

The doctor’s hand plunged into his 
pocket, and the squire cleared his throat as 
if he were going to speak, but Ted and Dolly 
fancied some sort of signal passed over their 
heads from their father to the two callers, 
for they both hesitated, and Mr. Tarleton 
said: “ Of course, the children will pay back 
the money that was given them for a paper 
which they can no longer supply, and, of 
course, Ted, being a manly boy and an honest 
one, wouldn’t let me pay his debts, but I 
think we can find a way of helping him and 
Dolly — and of course the children next door, 
230 


WHAT THE MAIL BROUGHT 


who shared the money — earn enough to pay 
their subscribers what they owe them. 
They did not mean to do anything wrong, 
but that doesn’t alter the fact that they owe 
the money.” 

The doctor took his hand out of his 
pocket, muttering something the twins did 
not understand about Spartan parents, 
and babies of eight. But the squire said 
heartily: 

You’re almost the only sensible young 
father I ever knew, Tarleton. There is no 
fear these children won’t grow up to honor 
you. You’re all right. Master Theodore; I 
respect you for wanting to pay your debts, 
and not being willing to get some one else 
to give you the money, as if you were a tiny 
boy, with no character of your own. As far 
as I am concerned, I will wait for my quar- 
ter of a dollar until it is convenient to pay 
it, and I suppose the doctor will.” 

Ted squared his shoulders, and looked 
into the squire’s eyes, this time with an en- 
tirely new feeling. He liked being treated 
231 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

in this fashion, and almost felt as though 
the gruff squire were kinder to him than the 
big-hearted doctor, who treated him like a 
baby, to be coddled and indulged. 

Thank you, sir,’’ he said heartily. We 
have a little of the money — Dolly didn’t use 
her share, and I’ve fifty cents I had before, 
and I guess Lily’s going to give hers back, 
though she hates it, ’cause she wants to use 
it for charity. We were going to ask you to 
let us pay the others first, ’cause we want to 
give it back to Miss Tabitha and three 
kinder poor women and Seth — and I guess 
Mr. Allen, ’cause he don’t look as if he en- 
joyed the paper so much and he isn’t our 
minister.” 

I see,” said the squire, without a smile, 
though Doctor Corbin gave a great haw-haw 
as he always did when something struck him 
as funny. Now, what do you suppose we 
came here to tell you? What do you think 
my morning mail brought me? You’ll never 
guess, but I am much mistaken if you owe 
Seth his subscription.” 

232 


WHAT THE MAIL BROUGHT 

What came? ’’ asked Dolly eagerly, just 
as Ted said: Yes, we do owe him; he gave 
us a quarter for his suscription, though we 
wanted to make him an honorable one.” 
Ted meant honorary, but the doctor and 
squire understood. 

I had a letter this morning from Den- 
ver, Tarleton,” said the squire. I sent my 
copy of the children’s paper to a brother of 
mine out there, who, I knew, would appre- 
ciate it. The Sun and Moon struck him as 
a great sheet, and he showed it to some 
friends of his, he writes, who were spending 
an evening with him. Among them was a 
Henry Atterbury, and when he came to the 
advertisement of Seth and his wares — 
that’s the way to put it, for your twins 
really were advertising Seth himself, and 
his powers as a naturalist — when this Atter- 
bury got to this he dropped the paper, and 
looked tremendously excited. ‘ I had a 
brother Seth,’ he said, ^ and from his earliest 
days he was just the sort of person this 
Seth Atterbury, advertised by these chil- 
233 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

dren, seems to be. I have lost sight of him 
for many years, and have tried my best to 
find him, because our mother left property 
for him which is in my hands.’ Then he 
begged my brother to write me, and ask me 
to find out from Seth if he were actually the 
lost brother of this man out there in Denver. 
My brother says he is a man of property, 
much respected in the city, who lives hand- 
somely, and is quite the man of wealth and 
dignity. He gave me certain clues by which 
Seth could be identified, and asked me to 
find out if he came from a towm in Vermont 
— Mapletown — and if his mother’s name was 
Mary and his father’s James. I fancy there 
is no doubt that Seth is the lost brother, 
and if he is, your little paper, and the ad- 
vertisement you put in for Seth, children, 
has been the means of finding him his 
brother, and getting him money enough to 
live happily ever after, like people in fairy 
tales.” 

Yes, it’s the fairy tale,” cried Dolly, too 
excited — though she hardly understood all 
234 


WHAT THE MAIL BROUGHT 

the squire had said — to be clear, “ it^s the 
fairy story. Seth said the fairy would 
hear our wishes, and the ones she loved 
would get ’em. I knew Seth would, ’cause 
the fairies love him better’n anybody in 
all the whole world. Oh, dear, dear 
Seth! Do you s’pose he’s got the money, 
squire?” . 

Dolly forgot that she feared Squire 
White, and took his hand in both her burn- 
ing little palms as if to beg him to make the 
beautiful news true. The squire smiled 
down upon her most kindly. “ I feel quite 
sure that it is true, my little Dolly,” he said. 

You will be the happiest child in all the 
state, if it is, won’t you? Seth’s a lucky 
man to get love, even if he had stayed 
poor.” 

“ Everybody loves him, ’cause he knows 
everything about ’em — flowers, birds, cats, 
and dogs, and all,” said Ted, whose brown 
eyes were wider open even than usual while 
he had been silently turning over in his mind 
the story which he had just heard, and bet- 
235 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

ter understood than Dolly. Seth told us 
once he lived in Vermont when he was lit- 
tle; I guess he’s the one, all right.” 

Well, I’ve got to see him,” said the 
squire. ‘‘No one in Methley has ever been 
to his house, and I feel sure he doesn’t want 
us grown folk about. Do you children think 
you could get him for me, and bring him to 
see me by to-morrow? You may tell him 
why if you like. I hardly dare visit him; 
besides, as you said in The Sun and Moon, 
he is almost always in the woods.” 

“ We’ll go,” said Ted. “ We’ll bring him 
to your house. Squire White. We went to 
see him before. It’s queer, isn’t it? We 
didn’t s’pose The Sun and Moon would do 
such a lot of good. We’re pretty glad — eh, 
Dolly?” 

“ I’m so glad — ” Dolly began enthusi- 
astically, but she stopped short, choking 
with emotion, and hid her face in her fa- 
ther’s coat to cry. 

The doctor patted her head. “ It’s a 
queer world, Dollydot,” he said. “You 
236 


WHAT THE MAIL BROUGHT 

never know what you may be doing when you 
think you’re doing something else, or maybe 
nothing at all.” 

“ I feel rather bewildered,” said Mr. 
Tarleton. It seems to me I have had to 
learn a great deal of the exciting things my 
twins have been up to, and get several new 
views of the publishing house of Tarleton, 
Tarleton and Company in the few hours 
since I came. But I am delighted at the 
news of The Sun and Moon’s shedding 
light on the pathw^ay of such a man as 
Seth must be.” 

We must move onward, squire, unless 
you want all my patients to get well for lack 
of medicines,” said the whimsical doctor. 

Are you coming with me? ” 

^^Yes; good-by, Mr. Tarleton; come to 
see me. Good-by, Ted and Dolly, and bring 
me Seth by to-morrow at the latest,” said 
the squire. And stepping into the doctor’s 
old buggy, as he held the reins up to allow 
the squire to pass him. Squire White and 
Doctor Corbin drove away. 

237 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

“ Shall we go over and tell the Eow- 
leys?” asked Ted. I wonder what they’ll 
think!” 

Let’s wait till we tell Seth,” said Dolly. 

The Rowleys — ’cept Bess — are not very 
nice ’bout the suscription money. I say let 
’em wait till we know sure it’s our Seth the 
man lost for a brother. We don’t want to 
play with ’em to-day, now mama and 
papa’re just come. And we’ve got to go see 
Seth this afternoon anyhow.” 

All right,” said Ted. Let’s go get 
mama and take her and daddy down to the 
river. Papa, we’ve found the nicest place, 
as shady as anything, and we’ve scooped out 
a place between the rocks, and kinder 
dammed the minnies in there, and we play 
we’re Gloucester fishermen — there’s a rock 
we have for our schooner, and we have the 
most fun! Will you and mama come 
there? ” 

Mama and I will go anywhere you want 
us to, and do everything you want us to, for 
we have been twin hungry ever since you 
238 


WHAT THE MAIL BROUGHT 

left us/’ declared papa, patting his little 
son’s head. And I especially will obey you 
and Dolly, because I’m to stay but a week, 
and then go back to be twin hungry for an- 
other month.” 


239 


CHAPTER XVI 


ANOTHER WALK WITH SETH 

It was still very warm, and mama felt 
half afraid to let the twins go to see Seth 
while the sun was high — yet, of course, they 
could not wander about the wood road alone 
when it was near its setting. So, being a 
mama who fully understood how impossible 
it is to wait when a person is eight and the 
errand more than delightful, she mercifully 
resolved to risk the heat of the sun, rather 
than throw her boy and girl into a fever of 
impatience, and let them go. 

Sun high, or sun low, there was no such 
thing as walking down the road to Sethis. 
Ted and Dolly clasped hands and skipped 
and ran and waltzed along, till Trusty sat 
down, panting, in the middle of the dust, 
240 


ANOTHER WALK WITH SETH 

and gave three short, sharp barks of protest 
at being made to hurry so. Seth’s cats did 
not know how perfect were Trusty’s man- 
ners toward cats, so seeing the little pro- 
cession afar, they scuttled into the house, 
and were so startled that they brought Seth 
out to discover what had disturbed them. 
He waved his hand — both hands, in fact — 
to his friends, and boy, girl, and dog flew to 
him, kissed him lovingly, and then stood 
looking at him, uncertain what to do or say 
next — or the boy and girl were, for Trusty, 
with the advantage of his dogship, was not 
in the least embarrassed. 

Are you too warm and tired to go with 
me for a few herbs? It’s not far, and I was 
about to start when you came; a few mo- 
ments later you would not have caught 
me,” said Seth, noticing with surprise how 
ill at ease the children seemed with him. 

No, indeed,” chimed the twins, and as 
Seth left them to fetch his hat, they whis- 
pered to each other, for the any-numbered 
time: “ How’ll we tell him? ” 

241 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

As usual, Seth took a hand of each vis- 
itor, and they turned into the woods back of 
the dear little house which Ted and Dolly 
found so charming. They were wondering 
whether, if he proved to be the brother of 
this man looming up in Denver, and got the 
money which his mother had left for him, he 
would no longer live there — if he would not, 
it almost seemed a pity that fortune had 
smiled on him. 

It was a deeply shaded spot where Seth’s 
herbs grew, and Ted and Dolly threw off 
their hats to enjoy its damp coolness while 
Seth grubbed around the roots of the trees, 
stirring up sweet, pungent, strange odors as 
he piled the slender herbs, with their thread- 
like roots, on a clump of moss, ready to 
carry away. 

At last Seth looked up, realizing for the 
first time that the children were not chat- 
tering as usual, but watching him in pro- 
foundly thoughtful silence. 

I have all I need,” he said, seating him- 
self beside them and hanging his hat on his 
242 


ANOTHER WALK WITH SETH 

knee, and tipping back his head to let the 
breeze blow over every inch of his face. 

There is no haste; I shall not use these 
herbs to-day, so we will sit here a while, and 
talk, if you like. IsnT it beautifully cool 
and peaceful here? Think of all the poor 
souls there are in the world — and the worst 
of it is they are not poor in purse, so they 
can do what they like — who never in all 
their lives taste one minute of this beauty! 
Just go scrambling through life — cities in 
winter and crowded hotels in summer! 
ArenT you sorry for them? ” 

“ Yes,’’ said Ted, faintly. But you 
wished you had money, Seth, that day when 
we had the picnic.” 

I wished I need never think of money 
again, and of course that does mean having 
enough to be free of care — yes, I know, but 
that wouldn’t be having much, as other peo- 
ple count money,” said Seth, rather to him- 
self than to his friends. 

The fairy was there that day, Seth,” 
said Dolly, the poet, and her voice shook 
243 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

with the excitement of what was to come. 

Did you really know she was there, or were 
you making believe? 

I hardly felt sure of it,” said Seth cau- 
tiously. But you can never tell about 
fairies. What makes you so certain she 
was there listening? ” 

Teddy got his wish right that minute, 
don’t you remember? And I got mine the 
next day,” said Dolly, and you know we 
never once thought mama would come be- 
fore August! And then, then — You said 
the ones the fairies loved would get their 
wishes, didn’t you, Seth? The Rowleys and 
Ethel and Lily haven’t got theirs.” 

Well, after all, you know three days is 
a pretty short time for them all to be 
granted,” laughed Seth. Sometimes the 
fairies work quickly, sometimes slowly; 
Ethel and Lily may get theirs, but not be- 
fore Christmas, and Tony — he asked for a 
pony, I remember. You see, that is a good 
deal to ask, and besides, though Tony is 
a good sort of boy, he isn’t just the kind 
244 


ANOTHER WALK WITH SETH 

fairies love best — fairies like less business- 
like people. Then, you see, I haven^t got 
my wish yet either.” 

You^re the kind fairies love most to 
death,” said Ted, with conviction. “ I guess 
fairies teach you all you know about animals 
and flowers, so if you did get your wish, 
wouldn^t you think you ought to? Dolly 
and I do.” 

“ No, dearies; I should think it was won- 
derfully like a miracle if the fairies gave me 
enough money to make me sure of my living 
all my days,” Seth said, with a half sigh and 
a smile. 

“ Where’s Denver, Seth? ” asked Ted, 
suddenly. 

“ Far west, in Colorado,” said Seth, sur- 
prised at the question. 

Do people’s brothers go there? ” Ted 
inquired. 

^‘Why, yes, dear boy, and their sisters, 
too!” Seth laughed aloud at this funny 
question, and the look on Teddy’s face as he 
asked it. 


17 


245 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

Do you think, do you s’pose — is your 
brother there, Seth? Ted’s voice was 
husky, and Dolly took a sudden header into 
Seth’s lap. 

Ted! ” exclaimed Seth sharply. “ What 
makes you ask such extraordinary ques- 
tions?” He had straightened himself, and 
sat erect, his blue eyes dilating and darken- 
ing with a keen look the children had never 
seen his face wear, and his breath came fast. 

It’s The Sun and Moon,” Dolly ex- 
plained, rising on her elbows on Seth’s 
knees and gazing eagerly into his face. 
“ Squire White’s brother showed it to his 
friends, and one of them, said the Seth Atter- 
bury in the advertisement must be his 
brother, ’cause he had been lost ever so long, 
and had always been like that — with the 
flowers and things, you know. And he said 
Squire White’s brother must write him and 
find out if our Seth was his brother, and tell 
him. And the squire sent us to get you to 
come to see him so he can tell this man out 
in Denver — shouldn’t you think the one in 
246 


ANOTHER WALK WITH SETH 

Denver must be the lost one, ^cause Den- 
ver's so far off? I never thought of that 
before, Teddy/^ 

Seth was trembling in every limb. 
‘^You don^t know the name of the man in 
Denver who wanted the squire written, do 
you, children? he asked. 

His name was Henry, and Atterbury, 
like yours,” replied Ted. And he said he 
wanted to know if our Sethis father’s name 
was James, ’cause it ought to be if he was 
his brother, and his mother ought to be 
Mary, and she left money for this lost one, 
and the Denver man has it, and he wants to 
find his brother to give it to him — most 
likely he wants to see him, and loves him 
too, Seth; don’t cry.” 

For Seth’s head had bowed on Dolly’s 
shoulder, and his thin frame was shaking. 
The twins had never seen a grown man cry, 
and it frightened them. 

“ Dear, dear, dearest Seth, please don’t,” 
cooed Dolly in his ear. “ If you don’t want 
to you needn’t come to the squire’s, and we 
247 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

won^t tell — the squire can just write and say 
he’s very sorry, but you’re in the woods and 
can’t come out.” 

Seth almost laughed in spite of the tears 
which were certainly raining down his 
cheeks now that he raised his head a little 
and let the children see his face. 

Is he really your brother, Seth? ” asked 
Ted, but he felt sure of the answer before 
it came. 

“ Keally my brother Harry, my madcap, 
mischievous Harry,” said Seth. There 
isn’t the least doubt. Dear children, you 
don’t understand. Of course, I will go to 
see the squire, and of course I shall write 
my brother at once — and — oh, Twinsies, how 
do you suppose it feels to have been quite 
alone for so many years, and then find your 
brother? ” 

It must feel dreadful, yet awfully nice,” 
said Dolly, instantly imagining what it 
would be to find Ted again if she had 
lost him for so long. And the money, 
Seth? The fairy has given you your wish, 
248 


ANOTHER WALK WITH SETH 

you see. Aren’t you glad about the money 
too?” 

Dolly had been worried over Seth’s pov- 
erty, and it was the greatest joy to her to 
think it was all over, and now, didn’t Seth 
himself care about it? 

“ I never once thought of the money, 
Dolly,” said Seth with a start. Yes, I 
am glad, or I shall be when I’ve had time to 
take it all in. It is the strangest story — do 
you think there could have been a fairy 
there that day? You know I was making 
believe with you, but it looks as though 
there had been, doesn’t it?” 

No wonder children loved Seth! And no 
wonder he needed money, and could never 
have it, unless it came to him in this way, 
for there was in him the heart and simplic- 
ity of a little child. 

“ Will you go right back with us now to 
see the squire? ” asked Ted, half feeling as 
though Seth might vanish up a pine-tree and 
forget all about new-found brothers, and es- 
pecially such a stupid thing as mere money. 

249 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

Yes,” said Seth. Come home with 
me to leave the herbs, and we’ll walk back 
together.” He arose at once, smiling with 
misty eyes, but his step was unsteady, and 
the children saw that he was in a sort of 
trance. 

There was no need of locking up the little 
house. Seth left his herbs in his cool cellar, 
and joined the children to go, like a man in a 
dream, to claim his fortune. 

‘‘ Is your brother like you, Seth? ” asked 
Dolly, getting possession of his hand. 

Not a bit. It is the brother of whom I 
told you — my only one — who never under- 
stood my love of solitude, as I never under- 
stood his noisy, romping games. But we 
were good friends, afar, and he was a bright, 
quick, keen-witted fellow, much cleverer 
than I. He took kindly to business, and 
always succeeded in what he undertook, 
while I — I never could make money. He 
went away from home, and then something 
happened that made me love the woods and 
to be alone more than ever, and we lost each 
250 


ANOTHER WALK WITH SETH 

other. I had left my home — I wasn’t happy 
just then, and I couldn’t stay there — so I 
didn’t know mother had died till long after, 
and Henry had settled up matters, and dis- 
appeared again. This was some time be- 
fore I came to Methley.” Seth seemed 
rather to be thinking aloud than talking to 
the children, but his words were so simple 
that they understood, except the hints of a 
sorrow they were too young to understand. 

Will you stay in your house, Seth, now 
you’re going to get a lot of money? ” asked 
Dolly, dreading to be told he would go away. 

Why, Dolly dear, I haven’t had much 
time for planning,” said Seth. But, yes, 
I shall keep to my old life — you see, it’s so 
much my own life. I couldn’t be happy 
among people; I never could turn my back 
on the dear, mute friends, the flowers, and 
beasts, and birds, who have been my life- 
long companions while I was poor and 
lonely, and laid their kind little hands — 
leaves, and wings, and paws — on my heart, 
and healed it when it was full of pain. I 
251 


AT AUNT ANNA'S 


shall make the little house better, perhaps, 
but I shall not leave it. Harry and I were 
always unlike, and his life in the world, and 
mine in the woods, must have made us more 
than ever different from each other. No, 
dears, you will not find me gone next year 
when June brings you back to Methley.” 

Both twins drew a long breath of relief. 

Then we’re all glad — not sorry anywhere 
— that you’ve found your brother, and are 
going to be rich,” declared Ted, and Dolly 
added: ’Cause you know we couldn’t stand 
Methley ever again if you weren’t in it.” 

You are the best little pair in the world 
to love queer Seth so much!” said Seth, 
squeezing the hands he held tight. But I 
hardly think I shall be rich,” he added. A 
few thousands, maybe, but that is riches for 
me, and indeed it sounds like a fairy tale, 
and I can’t believe it yet.” 

And you’ll be happy then, like the peo- 
ple in fairy tales, and it will be nice to find 
your brother, won’t it? ” cried Dolly. 

Nice! To find the man that used to be 
252 


ANOTHER WALK WITH SETH 

my noisy Harry when we were boys in Ver- 
mont, and to be forever free from anxiety 
how to live! My little boy-and-girl-twins, 
you can not guess what it means for years to 
come,’’ cried Seth, and his voice was so full 
of feeling, and deep with joy, that the chil- 
dren were satisfied. 

At the squire’s gate they paused. 

Mama said we weren’t to go in, ’cause the 
squire’d want to see you alone,” said Ted. 

We’ll go home, and you can tell him ’bout 
it ’thout us, can’t you? ” Ted evidently did 
not feel that in worldly affairs Seth was 
fitted to take care of himself. 

I think I can answer questions,” 
laughed Seth. And that’s all the squire 
wants.” 

Do you s’pose, if we hadn’t had The 
Sun and Moon, and hadn’t put your adver- 
tisement in, and the squire hadn’t sent it out 
to his Denver brother, you’d never have been 
found, Seth, nor got the money? ” asked 
Dolly, in an awestruck voice. She had been 
putting the question to herself all day since 
253 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

the doctor had driven the squire to Aunt 
Anna’s to tell the amazing news. 

“ It is more than likely,” said Seth. I 
believe, dearies, you have made my for- 
tune.” 

The twins executed a sort of triumphant 
war-dance under the squire’s overhanging 
elms. Only think! ” they cried. And we 
never dreamed of it! And we’d have done 
anything, the very hardest things, to have 
made you happy, Seth, ’cause we love you so, 
and this was just as easy! ” 

“ Good-by, good fairies, for to-day,” said 
Seth, turning in at the gate. “ To the long- 
est day that he lives, happy in the woods 
among his little woodland friends, your 
queer Seth will never forget this afternoon, 
and what his child friends have done for 
him.” 

Good-by, good-by,” called back the 
twins. “Not ^ queer Seth’; it’s dear Seth, 
you mean. The dearest, best Seth — that’s 
what you are! ” 

They skipped off up the road, swinging 
254 


ANOTHER WALK WITH SETH 

hands and singing. As they looked back, 
just as they got to the bend, they caught a 
glimpse of the slender, bent form of Seth 
walking slowly up the squire’s driveway to 
claim his happiness. 


255 


CHAPTEE XVII 


SOLVING THE DIFFICULTIES 

Really, Dolly, I think you’re not treat- 
ing your mother very well.” Aunt Anna 
spoke in that merry way of hers which she 
shared with the pretty mother, and which 
was so much more charming than anybody 
else’s way of speaking. Dolly knew that she 
was not in earnest, and yet the remark was 
so startling that, in spite of the knowledge, 
she sat up straight and opened her eyes 
wide. 

“ Why, Aunty Anna? Why am’t I treat- 
ing her well? ” Dolly used to say am’t I ” 
when she was tiny, and still occasionally re- 
lapsed into the expressive contraction. 

She has been here two whole days, and 
has not yet met Dolly’s Dames. Don’t you 
256 


SOLVING THE DIFFICULTIES 

think it is time those ladies called upon 
her?’^ hinted Aunt Anna. 

“ Oh, yes, Dolly, please,’^ mama chimed 
in. You wrote me about them, you know, 
and I felt as though I could not wait to get 
to Methley to see them, but weVe been so 
stirred by the great results of The Sun and 
Moon that no one has thought of them. 
Won’t they call on me this afternoon? ” 
Dolly looked thoughtful. “ The children 
are all coming over for a meeting,” she said. 
“ Papa told Ted how he thought we might 
get back the suscription money, and he’s 
going to have a meeting with Bess and 
Ethel and Tony and Lily and me to talk 
about it. I guess we could be Dolly’s Dames 
first, and go to the meeting in our gowns — 
maybe ’twould be more grown up and sol- 
emn that way, anyhow.” 

“You might ask the girls next door if 
they will come to call on me,” said mama. 
“ In costume, I mean, of course.” 

“ Oh, they’ll come if I say so,” said 
Dolly easily, betraying her sense of lead- 
257 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

ership. But she added, as she slid from 
her chair: “ Idl go tell them, though, 
^cause they keep their things over at their 
house.” 

Her mother and Aunt Anna watched 
her creeping through the hedge, and their 
eyes met, full of love and pride in the little 
girl. “ She’s such a dear Dolly! ” sighed 
Mrs. Tarleton. There never could be a 
sweeter little woman, nor a better one.” 

“ They are both the best children in the 
world, Hilda; we discovered that when 
they were one day old, and time has but 
confirmed our judgment,” laughed Aunt 
Anna. 

Dolly came running back across the 
lawn. They’ll be over before long, but 
they’ve got to dress over there; so, mama, 
you’ll have to go sit in the back somewhere, 
’cause you mustn’t see them come — you 
must see us first all together.” 

Very well,” said mama obediently. 
“ I’ll go anywhere you say, and be as blind 
as a whole nest of bats — do bats have nests, 
258 


SOLVING THE DIFFICULTIES 

like the bird part of them, or holes, like the 
mouse part? I^m sure I don’t know how 
they live.” 

‘‘Do bats keep flats? Do flats keep 
bats?” said Ted, who had just come in, in 
imitation of his beloved Alice. “ You can’t 
let ’em make a long call, Dolly, ’cause we’ve 
got to get to business.” 

“ They won’t want to,” said Dolly. “ I’ll 
hurry get dressed; Aunty Anna, would you 
help me, please? ” 

When Dolly was arrayed in all her 
flnery, she crept out of the side door, and 
ran down to meet her “ dames ” at the gate. 
She had not long to wait them, and when 
they came, mincing along in the glory of 
trains and flowers and feathers and flum- 
mery, she joined them, and the four ladies 
came up the lawn, card-cases in hand, to 
call on Mrs. Tarleton. 

Nellie, the maid, admitted them when 
they rang, and showed them into the par- 
lor. Mrs. Tarleton entered so soon that it 
was quite evident that she was fully pre- 
259 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

pared for callers, and Nellie almost at once 
brought in lemonade and cake. 

Most of the conversation was carried on 
by Mrs. Tarleton, who behaved splendidly, 
and seemed entirely unconscious of her 
guests’ height when they arose to go. This 
was the more praiseworthy that she had to 
bite her lips and hold her hands fast to re- 
sist the desire to snatch up the quaint little 
figures, and kiss and kiss the rosy faces 
under the more than fashionable headgear. 

When they had departed to join the boys 
who were waiting for them on the lawn, 
Mrs. Tarleton gathered up her white gown 
and ran as fast as she could to find her hus- 
band. ‘‘ Kick, Rick, Richard,” she called. 

Look out the front window as quick as 
you can and see Dolly and her dames. They 
are the cunningest things! ” 

Fortunately, the ladies did not hear this 
description of their dignified selves. They 
were listening seriously to Ted, who was 
announcing to them a business meeting of 
the gravest character. Tony and I say to 
260 


SOLVING THE DIFFICULTIES 

have it out of doors/^ he was saying. And 
I want to hold it down at the gate, ^canse 
those posts make such dandy chairs for the 
heads of the meeting.’’ 

I don’t think they are like chairs one 
bit,” said Ethel emphatically. If you 
want chairs why don’t you sit on the 
piazza? ” 

Yes, and have Nellie dusting behind 
the blinds, and hearing all we say!” said 
Ted. I don’t mean chairs like that. 
Don’t you know? At meetings somebody 
takes the chair, and that means he’s run- 
ning the meeting, and the head of the meet- 
ing is called a chair man.” Ted pronounced 
it like two words. I’ve heard about these 
things from my father, and when men come 
to see him I always pay ’tention to their 
talk, ’cause when I grow up I mean to be 
something, I don’t know what. Now, come 
on, and we’ll hold the meeting down at the 
gate.” 

The twins usually had their way with 
their comrades, though they never seemed 
18 261 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

to try hard to get it. The Rowleys and 
their cousins meekly fell in line now as Ted 
led the way, and went down to the big stone 
posts marking the driveway. 

Dolly and I are in the chairs, ’cause we 
were editors of the paper, and got it up,” 
announced Ted. Can you get up there, 
Dolly, with all those togs on? ” 

Not unless you all help me,” replied 
Dolly. If I pull up the way we always do 
I’ll tear my skirt to bits.” 

I’ll get up first and pull, while the rest 
boost you,” said Ted, and then I’ll go over 
on my own post.” 

This program was successfully carried 
out; Dolly arrived breathless, but un- 
harmed, on the gate-post, and Ted slid down, 
and hastily scrambled up its mate. 

Now, gentlemen and ladies,” said Ted, 
but Ethel interrupted him. 

You always must put ladies first,” she 
said. ’Specially when they’re so much 
dressed up.” 

Ted looked down on the queer group 
262 


SOLVING THE DIFFICULTIES 

below him; little Lily, very serious under her 
drooping hat; Bess, quietly and sincerely in- 
terested; Ethel, longing to turn the whole 
affair into a frolic, all holding their trains 
gracefully, and behaving with the airs of the 
world of fine ladyism which their appear- 
ance as Dolly’s Dames always called forth. 
Across from him was his twin, behaving with 
the easy elegance which became a leader of 
dames, and one of the chairmen of a finan- 
cial meeting. Tony, resting first on one 
foot, then on the other, treated the occasion 
in a humorous way. 

“Well, then: Ladies and Gentlemen,” 
Ted began again. “We are having this 
meeting to decide how we shall pay back the 
money we owe our suscribers to The Sun 
and Moon. We’ve got to do it; we’ve all got 
to do it, ’cause we’ve all had some of the 
money. The other editor, over on the other 
post, has given back her part, and I’ve given 
my fifty cents, which I didn’t get from the 
paper, but it’s all the same, ’cause I used 
the paper money. I never thought till last 
263 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

night, when I was talking with my father, 
and told him ^bout it, and he said so, that by 
rights we — Ted and Dolly — donT owe any- 
thing but ten cents from me, and you others 
owe it all.” 

There arose a murmur from Tony and 
Ethel, and Lily looked frightened, because 
she really did not fully understand what it 
was all about, but Bess looked grave, and 
raised her eyes to Ted with an expression 
that seemed to assure him of her readiness 
to do her part toward making the crooked 
straight. 

Now, you neednT grumble, Tony and 
Ethel,” said Ted severely. “You know you 
used the money, and you ought to want to 
pay it back. Bess has given us twenty-five 
cents, and Lily, you’ll give us yours back, 
’cause you haven’t used it, won’t you? ” 

Lily hung her head. “ I’d rather send it 
to do good,” she said faintly. 

“ It couldn’t do any good,” said Ted 
quickly. “ Don’t you see it isn’t yours, and 
if it isn’t how could you ’spect money 
264 


SOLVING THE DIFFICULTIES 

that wasn’t yours to do good if you used it 
for something? Most likely it would do an 
awful lot of harm, to you and everybody 
that had it.” 

You must be just before you are gener- 
ous,” said Bess, in a slow and painstaking 
way, which came from the fact that she was 
quoting a sentence she had been obliged to 
copy from the blackboard at school. 

That’s right, that’s it, Bess; you’re all 
right!” cried Ted, approving her, and re- 
lieved to find one of the little band of neigh- 
bors who did not seem to be cloudy in her 
views of strict honesty. 

Lily was conscientious, not to say serious- 
minded. She caught her breath in a sob, 
and said: Well, I’m sure I don’t want to 
steal, if that’s what you mean, and you can 
take your money to all the people it be- 
longs to.” 

Good girl!” cried Ted. “Now, that 
makes us have one dollar and ninety-five 
cents to pay back, and leaves us one dollar 
and eighty cents to earn — papa figured it 
265 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

for me last night, ’cause we felt sure Lily’d 
give up hers. Now the only ones that owe 
are me, ten cents; Tony and Ethel the whole 
sixty they got, each of ’em, and Bess thirty- 
five, ’cause she gave us a quarter — and then 
we’ve got something wrong, but maybe it’s 
the eighteen cents we paid for paper and 
ink and pencils. Papa says he thinks we 
might divide them up, after we’ve paid our 
debts, ’cept the pencils; those are mine, 
’cause I took ’em and the seven cents and 
fifty cents, ’stead of sixty like you all had, 
so’s to square things. It’s a little mixy, but 
it’ll come out when we get to figuring on 
paper — papa’ll help.” 

“ Well, if Dolly don’t owe anything, and 
you only ow'e ten cents, we’ve got to do all 
the work to earn money to pay back, and I 
don’t see the fun,” said Tony. 

“ You can’t see the fun of keeping money 
when it wasn’t given you to keep, but to pay 
for a paper, can you?” asked Dolly sud- 
denly from her post. And we don’t care, 
Ted and I, not one bit, whether we owe or 
266 


SOLVING THE DIFFICULTIES 

don’t — we’re going to work like everything 
too to help earn the money, ’cause it’s our 
paper, and we feel so ’shamed, we’ve got to.” 

This was not precisely expressed, but 
Tony grasped Dolly’s meaning at once. 

You’re awful funny, Dolly, you and 
Ted both; you make such a fuss! You know 
the folks would just laugh at what we did, 
and not mind ’cause we’re children, ’sides 
what’s a quarter each? But I’ll work and 
pay it back if you want to, and I guess it’s 
pretty good of you to help when it ain’t up 
to you to do it.” 

We stand by our friends,” said Ted, 
with the air of a prime minister. 

Well, what can we do to get the 
money? ” inquired Ethel, who did not look 
particularly delighted with the prospect. 

Aunt Anna’s going to make us mail 
carrier, and pay us ten cents a week — if it’s 
too hot she says Fritz can go, ’cause we 
don’t really owe money, and she’s sorry 
for us. And she says if you’ll help pick po- 
tato-bugs, and fruit and things in the gar- 
267 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

den, and maybe weed with Fritz and us, 
she’ll pay you too, and she thinks your 
mother will, if you ask her. I kinder think 
she knows she will, and they’ve been talk- 
ing it over,” added Ted, astutely. So, if 
we try, we can easy have the money before 
September. Will you, all of you? ” 

’Course we will,” said Bess promptly, 
and Ethel and Tony assented with less cor- 
diality. 

Well, I asked papa if there wasn’t any- 
thing you gave people when you owed ’em, 
telling ’em ’twas all right, and they’d get 
their money, or something, and he said yes,” 
said Ted. He said it was a promising note 
— wasn’t it, Dolly? ” 

‘^Something like that; not just that,” 
said Dolly. 

Well anyhow, he ’splained, and I wrote 
this, and showed it to him, and he said he 
thought it was fine.” And Ted read: “The 
publishers of The Sun and Moon are sorry 
it stopped, but it had to. So they promise 
to pay you your quarter back as soon as they 
268 


SOLVING THE DIFFICULTIES 

can. And they give you this solemn written 
paper, with their names signed, to say so.’’ 

That’s all right, Ted,” said Tony, admir- 
ingly, but it’s a bother we ever did it; don’t 
you wish we hadn’t? ” 

What, when you think of Seth?” cried 
Dolly reproachfully. We’re so glad we 
had that paper we wouldn’t mind if we had 
to work ourselves into skelingtons.” 

That’s so; I forgot Seth,” said Tony. 

Is the meeting over? ” asked Lily. 

I’m kinder tired standing up on my ankle, 
and I’d like to have the rest of the meeting 
where we could sit down.” 

Meeting’s ajawned,” announced Ted, 
with better understanding of the word he 
used than of its pronunciation. And he 
instantly descended from “ the chair.” 

Getting Dolly down was not such a sim- 
ple matter; long skirts, and fine bonnets 
that tip over a person’s eye, are not adapted 
to climbing. The united efforts of the meet- 
ing rescued her from the post, however, and 
the Tarleton twins accompanied their neigh- 
269 


AT AUNT ANNA’S 

bors to their own gate, the finery of Dolly’s 
Dames still forbidding the hedge. 

That’s settled!” Dolly exclaimed with 
a long breath of relief as they faced toward 
home. We’ll have to work, Teddy, but we 
won’t mind, will we?” 

Like it, when it makes us square,” said 
Ted briefiy. 

They turned in at the gate, and Trusty 
came as usual to meet them; in the distance 
Pukka Boy and Billy stretched themselves 
at the foot of the steps, recognizing the 
twins, and the chance of a frolic their com- 
ing always promised. 

I guess we’ve settled the paper,” said 
Dolly thoughtfully. “ Don’t you think with 
The Sun and Moon helping Seth, and all, 
this has been the nicest summer we ever had 
in Methley? ” 

I b’lieve it is,” assented Ted. 

And don’t you think we had better 
play more by ourselves, down at the river, 
making believe, and all that, the way we’ve 
always done? ” continued Dolly. I like 
270 


SOLVING THE DIFFICULTIES 
those children, but we have the best times 
by ourselves, don’t we, Teddy? ” 

“ Yes, siree! ” said Ted emphatically. 

“ Isn’t it queer? ” remarked Dolly, lifting 
her long skirt with thoughtful grace. 

“ Not when you’re twins,” replied Ted. 


( 1 ) 


THE END 


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J. O. Davidson and others. 

Paul Jones. 

By Molly Elliot Seawell. With 8 full-page Illustrations. 

Midshipman Paulding. 

A True Story of the War of 1812. By Molly Elliot Seawell. 
With 6 full-page Illustrations. 

Little Jarvis. 

The Story of the Heroic Midshipman of the Frigate Constellation. 
By Molly Elliot Seawell. With 6 full-page Illustrations. 


D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK. 


BY HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH. 


Brother Jonathan; or, The Alarm Post in the Cedars. 

A Tale of Early Connecticut. Illustrated. Colored Frontispiece. $1.25 
net ; postage, 12 cents additional. 

A stirring tale of the early days of Connecticut, dominated by the forceful per- 
sonality of Jonathan Trumbull, whose name, through its affectionate use by George 
Washington, has become the familiar nickname of the nation that he helped to make. 


OTHER BOOKS BY MR. BUTTERWORTH. 

In the Days of Audubon. 

A Tale of the “ Protector of Birds.” Illustrated by B West Clinedinst 
and others. |i.20 net ; postage, 14 cents additional. 

In the Days of Jefferson; or, The Six Golden Horseshoes. 

A Tale of Republican Simplicity. Illustrated by F. T. Merrill. $1.50. 

The Story of Magellan. 

A Tale of the Discovery of the Philippines. Illustrated by F. T. Merrill 
and others. $1.50. 

The Treasure Ship. 

A Story of Sir William Phipps and the Inter-Charter Period in Massa- 
chusetts. Illustrated by B. West Clinedinst and others. $1.50. 

The Pilot of the Mayflower. 

Illustrated by H. Winthrop Peirce and others. $1.50. 

True to his Home. 

A Tale of the Boyhood of Franklin. Illustrated by H. Winthrop Peirce. 
$1.50. 

The Wampum Belt ; or. The Fairest Page of History. 

A Tale of William Penn’s Treaty with the Indians. With 6 full-page 
Illustrations. $1.50. 

The Knight of Liberty. 

A Tale of the Fortunes of Lafayette. With 6 full-page Illustrations. 
$1.50. 

The Patriot Schoolmaster. 

A Tale of the Minutemen and the Sons of Liberty. With 6 full-page 
Illustrations by H. Winthrop Peirce. $1.50. 

In the Boyhood of Lincoln. 

A Story of the Black Hawk War and the Tunker Schoolmaster. With 
12 Illustrations and colored Frontispiece. $1.50. 

The Boys of Greenway Court. 

A Story of the Early Years of Washington. With 10 full-page Illustra- 
tions. $1.50. 

The Log School-House on the Columbia. 

With 13 full-page Illustrations by J. Carter Beard, E. J. Austen, and 
others. $1.50. 


D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK. 


NEW BOOKS FOR THE YOUNG* 


With the Flag in the Channel; or, The Adven- 
tures of Capt. Gustavus Conyngham. 

By James Barnes, Author of “ Midshipman Farragut,” “Commo- 
dore Perry,” etc. Illustrated by Charlton T. Chapman. (Young Heroes 
of our Navy series.) i2mo. Cloth, 8o cents net ; postage, 8 cents 
additional. 

The wonderful story of adventure at sea which Mr. Barnes tells in his new 
volume will be new to almost all readers, but it is founded upon fact. Captain 
Conyngham was the predecessor of Paul Jones. When Dr. Franklin and Silas 
Deane of the Marine Committee of 1777 issued the commissions for vessels which 
were to sail in the capacity of national cruisers, the first commission, dated March 
I, 1777, was given to Captain Conyngham. He crossed to the British Channel, cap- 
tured English ships, entered English ports in disguise, and his brilliant exploits 
filled England with dismay. 

Behind the Tine, a story of School and Football. 

By Ralph Henry Barbour, Author of “The Half-Back,” 
“ Captain of the Crew,” etc. Illustrated by C. M. Relyea. i2mo. 
Cloth, $1.20 net ; postage, 12 cents additional. 

This is an exciting football story by a writer who has placed himself at the head 
of writers of stories of college sports. “Behind the Line” deals with life at the 
preparatory school and in the earlier years at the university. It contains thrilling 
descriptions of football contests, and ^ives an intimate view of the preparation and 
training for football and other athletics. The story is one of much variety and 
incident, and it sketches the various incidents and amusements and also the work of 
a large preparatory school. 

Miss Lochinvar. a story for Girls. 

By Marion Ames Taggart. Illustrated by William L. Jacobs. 
i2mo. Cloth, |i.20 net ; postage, 12 cents additional. 

Miss Taggart knows all the workings of the girlish heart. The experiences of 
the country girl brought up to worship nature and truth, to take things at their 
true worth, and to look always for the best in her ^friends and surroundings, 
suddenly called upon to face life in the home of her rich city cousins, and her un- 
conscious influence in overcoming the petty jealousies and meannesses that make 
themselves manifest in an artificial society, form the theme that Miss Taggart has 
used for an intensely sympathetic and interesting story. 

Jacks of all Trades, a story for Girls and Boys. 

By Katharine N. Birdsall. Illustrated in two colors by Walter 
Russell, with many text cuts. i2mo. Cloth, $1.20 net; 12 cents 
additional. 

Here is a stor"'/ that shows conclusively that “the child is father of the man.” 
Miss Birdsall has written a book that should be read by every boy and girl who has 
any ambition or purpose to develop the best that is in them. The author has taken 
nobility of character as the key-note for a most wholesome and inspiriting story, the 
plot of which is of absorbing interest. 


D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK. 









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